I've never liked fancy dress - I can't be arsed - but I normally turn up anyway, in mufti. My favourite theme was "come as a pub". A friend of mine turned up in his normal clothes, with his only concession to the fancy dress theme being a sign around his neck saying "fancy a shag? Piss off, I can't be bothered". When questioned (as he inevitably was) he told people about a pub somewhere in Bradford called The Idle Cock.
I hate fancy dress, we organised one at work for comic relief a few years back. I was the only one who bothered . I went as a rocker, or I tried to, something got lost in translation and I ended up looking like the leather guy from the Village People. Not a good look for a straight guy in Brighton.
I hate fancy dress, we organised one at work for comic relief a few years back. I was the only one who bothered . I went as a rocker, or I tried to, something got lost in translation and I ended up looking like the leather guy from the Village People. Not a good look for a straight guy in Brighton.
Fortunately no photographic evidence exists. Just the mental scars. I was offered overtime that day and ended up cycling home in it, through the town centre in the early evening. Que a load of wolf whistles and shouts of "well it's better than lycra". Don't think I've ever pedalled so hard
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