The Curious Case of the Brown Trousers
When it comes to fashion I am a bit of a one trick pony. I like black jeans or black combats, if I am feeling whimsical khaki green at a push. Last weekend, in a fit of pique, I decided I was going to break with tradition and try something new. In a moment of craziness I purchased a pair of brown trousers. They haven’t arrived yet but I have been fretting about them ever since. What possessed me into this random act of fashion rebellion? For years I have been comfortable with my style (or indeed lack there of). I am still genuinely unsure if I will be able to where these when they do show up. The last time a tried something different, a pair of beige combats as I recall, my young nephew threw up on me and them. (Pureed sweet potato if your curious. Turns out bright orange is not a great accent colour in this case). More on this as the story develops.
The Great Tattoo of the Deep
Last week Mrs Cheesecake got some new ink. She is now the proud owner of a wolf paw print on the back of her neck. Jolly good it looks to. I am once again jealous. She has a number of other ideas and I look forward to them appearing over the fullness of time. In all honesty my tattoos are a bit lame and I am going through a phase of being slightly embarrassed by their crapiness. This did make me think about remedying the situation and so I started looking for ideas. I want to really go for it. Something striking and memorable. Something that I will be proud to be seen with for the rest of my life. After much research I have come to the following conclusion. I want something similar to this.
Isn’t it stunning. I really, REALLY like this. Now we come to the problem. I was talking to the tattooist about getting a sleeve done and it takes quite a long time (well I suppose that is fair enough. I mean you’d want a good job wouldn’t you) but it also costs quite a bit. Hmmm I’m not the best at saving my pennies. Roughly we are talking about 20hrs work at around £70 an hour. Do the math. Not exactly cheap is it. Would anyone like a kidney? Can I interest you in a slightly used spleen? If an eccentric billionaire happens upon this post I wouldn’t say no to accepting your charity. I won’t do anything kinky in return though. Well not too kinky anyway.
A Cheesecake The Goes Bump in The Night
Over the last couple of years I have developed a rather strange habit. If I sit an watch a horror film before I go to bed I will almost always have a bad dream. This in turn leads to me waking up in a blind panic. For example when I watched the Japanese version of The Ring I woke up later that night screaming. As I am sure you can no doubt appreciate Mrs Cheesecake poor nerves were somewhat frayed by this experience. On another occasion I have woken up, confidently explained there is either (a) someone in the house or (b) at the window. After which I immediately fall back to sleep. Mrs Cheesecake is not a massive fan of that either. Probably the weirdest one of all was the night I shouted “HOOTERS!!!” in my sleep. In that particular instance I do still maintain I was having a dream about clowns. Sleep and the sub-concious mind are a real enigma and I am constantly perplexed by the whole thing. The outcome of this new habit – no horror before bedtime. Damn shame as part of me really enjoys a good horror movie.
El Diablo Cheesecake