There we were, passing the time, listening to the voices in our drink, giving lip to those voices in our drink, when navels came to mind. Then navals came to mind, but that’s a whole other kettle of adult-oriented filth.
Then after that, if you’re really interested, MvVitie’s Digestives came to mind. Then, in no particular order except in order; bog roll, a gennelman named Daniel (we think), poppers, that really great Vietnemese round the corner, those MvVitie’s Digestives again, Loose Women’s Late Night DVD which we may actually buy but will probably wait until we get our promo copy, sitting down with said Loose Women Late Night DVD and a cup of tea (with McVitie’s Digestives to dunk. Ginger Nuts are a sturdier dunking biscuit but frankly there are troops dying for Queen and country out there), how fucking annoying the Noisettes are, Santa, poppers, Santa, poppers, poppers, poppers.
We could go on, but someone just complimented us on our Burberry trench and, well, old habits die hard.
*puts fist to head, thinker style; sticks tongue out a bit*
Oh yeah, the celebrity navel.
Who could it be? *theme tune to Tales of the Unexpected is heard over there somewhere*
It’s Daniel Craig! Yey and yeys plural!
Pills? Whisky? Topless man? Shiny kitchen surfaces? *white wees*