So, I have a confession to make. I was sitting watching the TV, minding my own business, when it hit. One of those moments when you catch yourself doing something and it causes you to re-evaluate your standing in the world, your choices in life, and your progression through the grand maze of existence. I put a tissue up my sleeve.
Now this might not sound like much to some but the repercussions of such an action hit me like a thunderbolt. It brought back memories of my Gran pulling a tissue from her sleeve like some sort of snotty magician, lick it and wipe my grubby child face with it. Years after I noticed my own mother constantly having that concealed weapon look with a tissue up each sleeve ever ready for that critical moment when a sneeze attacks. It is an action as synonymous with old people as not knowing when you’ve farted or pissing yourself.
Now I was going to try and make excuses about the fact that the trousers I was wearing at the time didn’t have pockets but that just makes it worse. I’m actually starting to think the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtle pyjama bottoms my girlfriend got me for Christmas may not be as cool as I think they are. But then the Ghostbusters ones are definitely cool, aren’t they? View full article »