Lately, my every waking moment has been filled with thoughts of you. Of the wondrous treasures that adorn your racks. I’m almost embarrassed (but not quite) to admit how many times your cash registers have rung for me over the past fortnight alone. Or how they now know me by name at that specific F21 outlet. Or that they text me when new stock in styles that appeal to me, arrive.
But how could I be blamed for an absolute lack of judgment in the face of such gloriousness?
Surely, oh reader, you agree that resistance is absolutely futile under these circumstances?
And that rational thought is, put simply, non existent?
pp/s And those, my friends, are the somewhat bloated bits of someone who’s just had knee surgery. Trust me, they’re looking much better now🙂