The Cold Truth

The sea was bloody freezing today. If I don’t get a wetsuit soon I’m going to throw a big tantrum or steal one. I don’t see how I can justify spending a lot of money on something to play with when we have a wedding to pay for, so I haven’t even bothered looking them up. But if I have a spare moment of boredom at work this week (which, let’s be honest, is pretty much a given) then I may take a look at ‘secondhand wetsuits dot com’ and see if I can find something cheap. Hopefully someone of equal size to myself recently got hit by a stray speedboat and suffered massive, fatal head injuries. Then his suit will be undamaged but unwanted and I can scoop it up for a tenner or so. Unless his wife wants to keep it as some bizarre, morbid memento of their awful time together. I bet she will. Bloody women are always out to spoil my fun.
Anyway, I digress. 
The sea was a bit calm so the surfing was a bit disappointing. Plus my fingers felt like they were freezing solid within five minutes of my body hitting the water. Thankfully we had a takeaway tea on the beach and I had the best haddock and chips I’ve had in my life, so that made up for everything. Now I’m going to see if Philippa fancies using her body heat to warm me out of my sea-induced chilliness. My suspicion is I’ll end up having a hot bath instead, but there‘s no harm in asking…..

RC 27-9-15