I’m not a massive fan of dressing up. Back in uni days, if there was an event where people dressed up as school kids, I went as the teacher. If I had to go to something at someone’s house in costume, I’d pull on a cheap hat and go as Paddy The Terrist. Dressing up just isn’t for me.
However, last weekend TLF and I were invited to a party, with the strict instruction that anyone not making an effort would face severe drinking fines. So I did what I had to do.
What the picture doesn’t show is that I emitted a constant whine from the air pump, that I was seven plus foot high when standing (and the flat was considerably less than seven plus foot high), that it was mighty difficult to breathe from inside the damn thing, and that I required help to get into or out of it.
But it was, I think, worth it for some of the comedy moments and the reactions. Dunno if I can be arsed doing it again, though.
Also, the hosts made everyone pay the stiff drinking fines anyway. Oh well.
At least you didn’t go down the Alex Reid route… and if you say, “Who he?” you are a fortunate man.
Aren’t “drinking fines” also known as “the warm up” to you?
Nelly: who he?
Chez: maybe in my younger, more foolish days. These days I’m all about being sensible. Honest.