This evening, on my walk home from work, I saw three women of a certain age - and wardrobe, and affection for blue eye shadow - excitedly heading to the Cliff Richard gig.
"I hope he sings Miss You Nights," said one, as I walked past.
"Ohh, and Summer Holiday. That's my favourite," added another.
"If I was 30 years younger, and he wasn't so funny looking, I would definitely be interested," said the last of the eye-shadowed troika.
I'm not sure how you follow a conversation like that.
So instead you shall have this photo of a baby sloth clutching a stuffed giraffe. Cute doesn't even come close...
"I hope he sings Miss You Nights," said one, as I walked past.
"Ohh, and Summer Holiday. That's my favourite," added another.
"If I was 30 years younger, and he wasn't so funny looking, I would definitely be interested," said the last of the eye-shadowed troika.
I'm not sure how you follow a conversation like that.
So instead you shall have this photo of a baby sloth clutching a stuffed giraffe. Cute doesn't even come close...
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