Shirt Watch: Old Skool
The astute among you will have noticed a lack of shirtwatch post yesterday. The reason for this is twofold. Firstly, I’ve run out of clean, new shirts that don’t need ironing (this whole having to iron shirts is going to be a huge pain in the arse) so resorted to wearing a regulation black shirt from the BC era [before colour] and, secondly, I forgot to take a photo. I had a bit of a hectic day, went out for team drinks, got home late and by the time I remembered I’d already got ready for bed and dropped the shirt in the washing bag.
Never fear, today I wore an identical black shirt from the BC era (as I’ve still not ironed) so today’s shot will work for both days 
I have bought a further 5 shirts today (although two are repeats on what I have already in a purple stripe and white linen as I liked those) so hopefully I will have enough shirtage to last between ironing sessions. Tomorrow will see a return to Glorious Technicolor but we will then be resorting to black tops (bought during my minor image change just over a year ago) due to me galavanting round the country this weekend and having to carry lots of stuff.
Anyway, without further ado, the shirt:
So what are you on exactly?
I am sat on a pub bench up against a plate glass window. There is a pavement behind me, Chris’s crumpled coat is next to my right hand.
You cannot go that direction
You are by the pool table. There are two balls on the table, the white ball and the eight ball.
I do no know how to take shot
You miss. You loose. You suck.
Unless I misunderstood the question, in which case: Nothing, my brain always works like this when I am tired. Be afraid, your country needs fraids.