Thing 52 Go Shopping In My Pyjamas

First and foremost. Yes. Those are my pyjamas. The Blond Boss gave them to me as a gift when I lived in her gaff. And yes, they do have numerous pink love hearts. I'm a real man - I'm comfortable with my sexuality. If you've a hang up about pink love heart pyjamas that's your business... ahem. Moving swiftly on...

You've seen them no matter where you're from. From Limerick to Dublin, from Castlemahon to Borris-On-Ossory. They go shopping in their pyjamas. They stroll through town with boxes of John Player or Benson and Hedges. Fancy people like Celia Holman Lee and you, judge them. Proper judgement. Not me though. You go girls. You're comfortable in your pj's taking the dog for a walk, or dropping the kids off at school, and I applaud it. Let it all hang out.

Now I'm a pretty shameless person at the best of times. There's little enough can embarrass me. I don't think I'd be writing this if I was the kind of person who blushed on a regular basis. From time to time though... And I've always wondered about the amount of balls it takes, or the complete lack of regard you'd have to have just to go shopping in your pyjama pants. And now I know. And yes. It's embarrassing. Especially if you're going with Token Northy and Pony Boy. Lady Northy and Little Flower didn't do much to protect my dignity either... thanks folks. But more on that to come...
There's a bit of an epic to be made of this little trip to the grocery store. First and foremost, as soon as I mentioned today's Thing, Token Northy and Pony Boy wanted in. And they wanted to bring beer. And by "they" I mean Pony Boy. He loves the beer. Can of Heineken in the back seat. Pile into the car, Token Northy pulls out, and then we hear the crunch. It's 11 at night, which means it's dark so he doesn't see the scooter belonging to the four-year-old in front of his car. Some small child's dreams crushed like the little plastic wheels of her beloved scooter. Surely it's just time to drive off...

Nope. Scooter's stuck in the wheel well. Tangled up in part of the axle. Had to jack the car up. That's called karma... it comes back to bit you in the ass when you ruin the lives of small children.

Then Lady Northy forgets that we're there as a joke Thing to take pictures of a tool in girl's pjs, and goes on a shopping spree. Then Token Northy sneaks up behind me and makes a grab at the pants... Thankfully i have the reflexes of a cat, or he's got the strength of that small girl who's scooter he crushed like so many childhood dreams.

All in all... well, my admiration has increased for the ladies who shop in their pjs. I'm sure that they're not feeling the same level of shame that I was, but at least i'm part of a cool gang.