Check Me Out

On holiday recently, I was sitting out on a balcony on my own, watching the day end, shirt off, beer on, with the sun low and my spirits high when a couple of lovely sorts walk by.

They both look at me and my head goes:

“Ladies.”

and my reason goes:

Loser. You’re thirty five.

“So? I may not be all that, but at least I’m some of that.”

Oh really?

“Sure. Give me one reason they we’re checking me out.”

OK, because you’ll put this in your blog later.

“Bullshit.”

…

“Oh.”