My thighs know polyester even if the label says 100% cotton. I swear that there are unnatural fibres in these trousers of mine. Perhaps even something ungodly. It teaches me to buy pants on a whim. I’m enduring a terrible day here in hot sweaty Manchester. My skin can’t cope and the pain of the chafing is enough to give me religious visions. I swear I saw Saint Sylvester nearly getting clipped by a tram on the road outside the art gallery. Soon I’ll be heading for lunch in search of a shop that sells ointments and balms. There must be something to extinguish the fire that’s burning below my beltline.
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3 comments:
Hi,
Hope you found something to make you more comfortable. I hope you will not be wriggling around in discomfort, come 5.00p.m.! I am in Sheffield, and it certainly isn't warm here!
Regards,
Sandie
Oops, nothing worse than chafing below the belt. Hope your skin recovers soon!
Have you considered a kilt? Remember the proud traditions of the Clan McMadeley.
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