Night out

I'm just curious - where exactly on my forehead does it say that I take general interest in not patricularily beautiful men with very bad pick-up lines? No, I'm serious. It must say somewhere on my face, I'm sure. Just like it says somewhere on my behind that I prefer sleazy swedes with overtime at S.A.T.S. to grab hold of me.

And when you have told me exactly where these messages are spelt out - I will remove them. because they are faults, they are errors, they are not true! And any bald-headed bergenese monkey wishing to contradict - may do so, but will fail. Miserably.

Please, when this has been done, you must also tell me why there are no people in this city, and why all the purty guys have already been taken. Especially the one that looked like the lead singer in The Kooks, which was a shame. And then, after that, tell me where the creativity has gone when you tell someone to take a wild, crazy pick - and they return with Gin & Tonic.

Yeah, so, thanks a bunch. I believe that will explain a few things.

And -- Eeeeugh, hair smells like cigarettes. Blaeh!

Chocolate muffin? Sweet Corn and Chili Muffin?

Edit: And maybe they should read this guide.
Edit II: I want to go snowboarding again.