On the 29th of July, I awoke at 7 and put on my dashiki. Please allow me one tiny diversion.

A dashiki is the African equivalent of a semi-casual suit. Yes! A blazer and slacks. I love them because they have large gaping holes at the arm pits. These ensure that your arm pits remain aerated through out the day. You have no idea how important this is in Lagos. Lagosian body odour is a special fragrance, I think it's an evolutionary development, for it doubles as insect repellent. I have never known a smelly man to be disturbed by flies. Flies only disturb the clean and dry.

Where was I? Yes I put on my dashiki and readied myself for Church. I was rather excited for Mena and Bintin were spiriting me away for an outing immediately after church. It isn't entirely conventional to have outings after Church apart from those involving more church and brunch, preferably a combination of both. In Lagos, it is possible to spend what could be considered a full working day plus overtime in Church. Yes, Nigerians take Church very seriously, so seriously that it is not uncommon to hear that people launder money in service of God. Bizarre no?

I was rather excited for this outing not only because I had missed Mena but also because I was keen to find out what the chat was about Le Petite Marche (LPM). LPM is a sort of market where higher end designers display and sell their wares.

Bintin and I turned up at Getz at about 3pm. We had to park in a parking space that was more bush than parking lot, but I didn't mind. I didn't mind because I had spotted quite the talented singer.

Bez!! Some people call him the African John Legend, and others say he's the best thing that's happened to the Nigerian music industry since D'banj. He's such a nice guy! He didn't mind that Bintin or @squllkandi made him pose for an unbearbly long period of time before securing this shot. His album  Super Sun dropped quite recently and you can buy it HERE. In fact you must buy it!! This is the link http://www.notjustok.com/2011/07/25/buy-album-bez-super-sun/. Click on it!!!

 After securing that photograph I boxed my ears because I had forgotten to take a picture with him. I'll be sure to remember next time. We strolled into LPM at Getz and I'll be honest. There wasn't a lot that I found interesting. I was rather bored until Mena, Bintin and I stumbled upon this stand.


 No, your eyes do not deceive you. This is what  found amusing. Aphrodisiac soap? Why? Are Oysters and Chocolate and Gambian Cockles and Mussels not enough? We really need Aphrodisiac soap too? As I have no special lady in my life I did not purchase a bar. If you are looking for some excitement in the bedroom why not head to the next Le Petite Marche and buy a bar? If it doesn't work then at least you'll be fairly clean.

We were going to leave when whispers reached our ears about a Chef Fregz event in the same venue. I did not know who Chef Fregz was so I decided to investigate. I made my way to the dining area and stood in the middle like a minor nabob. I did not have to wait long before a waiter came to ask me if I needed a seat. I took the opportunity to bellow in an exceedingly deep baritone, " Where is the Chef? Bring him to me!!!" The poor waiter was taken aback by the boom of my voice and scampered to produce the chef. I remained standing in the middle but my demeanour warmed considerably when i saw my old friend Gbugemi Fregene. The following conversation ensued

Enter Gbubemi and Afam
Afam: What are you doing here old chap? I never thought I'd see you here.

Gbubemi: Ah! It's a small world. I cook here.

Afam: Oh you work under Chef Fregz? Can you introduce me to him?

Gbubemi: Are you mildly addled?

Afam: How rude of you! No why?

Gbubemi: I'm Chef Fregz...


I was so pleased to hear that. It's always nice to hear that your friends are doing well. It fills you with an inexplicable sort of glee and pride. I insisted that we take the following pictures...


 I sat down to a plate of Gnocchi Shaped Eba pieces with luscious spoons of rich seafood okro with fish pices, jumbo prawns, crab claws and shrimps with special ata din din garnish. Below is a copy of the menu he served on the day.

I know you're impressed.

To be perfectly honest I did not understand what the dish was. I just knew that it would have moulded bits of minced, dried and fried bitter cassava with fish and prawns covered with a funky garnish. It was amazing. Bintin had to restrain me from licking my plate.

Happy Days,
Afam.

Ps. What do you guys think of this Breville Juice Fountain Plus, JE98XL (Google Affiliate Ad). I think I need one.

Ps. To find out when the next Chef Fregz event is, click the following link http://www.theskinnychefthatcould.com/category/events/

I'll get right to it. There's no need to dawdle. One individual wrote this,

My days were pretty dull in the Northern Village that I had chosen to live out my days. I consigned myself to the boring life of an unemployed couch potato. I took out the trash, trimmed the hedges in my dressing gown and took long walks. I lived the life of a mere mortal. but there was something inside me dying to come out. It was the same thing that led me to have the following conversation after a night out to Sankeys in Manchester.

Premise: Eragon and I had made the quest to Sankeys (a very popular nightclub in Manchester), where we out danced and out partied every soul in attendance. The ladies were not very pleased with us outshining them in every aspect of the art that is clubbing so we ended up going home together. This is the beauty of a bromance.

Eragon (to the taxi driver): Drop us off at Sainsburys please.
Afam: ygfulgqwauifhiq34y84yt18
Eragon: What are you on about my dear fellow?
Afam: Bleh
Eragon: Brilliant! Do you remember anything from tonight?
Afam: Have you got my shirt?
Eragon: You don't recall whipping it over your head like a cowboy?
Afam: I don't think I heard you correctly.
Eragon: I think you did.
Afam: I'm not capable of such debauchery.
Eragon: I think you'll find that you're more than capable of such debauchery. I was certainly very entertained by it. Just make sure you apologise to Gina in the morning.
Afam: Certainly... I love you man.
Eragon: I love you too. Now get out of the damn cab.
Afam: I can't!
Eragon: What on earth do you mean by you can't?
Afam: I can't feel my legs.
Eragon: What do you mean you can't feel your legs? Get out of the cab!

As strange as it might sound I really could not move my legs, so with herculean effort I hefted one leg after the other and placed both feet on the ground outside the taxi. I then pushed my self off the seat with the full stock of vigour awarded a man of my station. As you can imagine this was a little more energy than the task demanded. My head sailed over my centre of gravity and I planted my face in the middle of the road. This undoubtedly clumsy manoeuvre had two advantages:

1. Once I had kissed the floor I found that I had regained control of my legs.
2. After I jumped up, I was greeted with applause and laughter from the entire street. I bowed very low indeed for applause and laughter are very rare indeed. They must be appreciated regardless of the circumstances.

It was a Grand Adventure!

That thing inside me was hungry for an adventure of the same calibre as the one above.

A good friend knows what you need and stands ready to provide it before you yourself know that you might have needed it. I Afam, being special, am gifted with a fair number of these. That very day, Asquith invited me to his birthday dinner and clubbing night. I didn't want to go, rather I wanted to go but I knew that if I should dare make the trip, my wallet would commit suicide. london has a tendency to do that to wallets. That's the beauty of London, those that live there are well aware of the money sucking tendencies of the city, and those that don't fantasize about the bright lights and huge monuments.

Enter Gbaddy, Nia, Jasmine and Chimba

Jasmine: London's amazing. I can't wait to graduate and get a job there.
Nia: The grass isn't always greener.
Gbaddy: That's a euphemism and a half, London is a hard cold city.
Chimba: Stop hating. I have no complaints about it and I've lived there all my life.
Nia: But that's because your family is loaded.
Jasmine: It really isn't that bad. I don't see what all the fuss is about.
Gbaddy: If you have ten pounds in Exeter you can live for a week, but if you have ten pounds in London, YOU DIE!!!!

He bangs the table and screams

Gbaddy: YOU DIE!!!! 

Somewhere in that exchange lies my point. London is not the ideal place for a perpetually broke student like myself, especially one who has champagne tendencies. So I developed a plan that would see me to London all expenses paid, or all expenses to be paid later...

TBC

Happy Days,
Afam

Ps. It just occurred to me that some of you might be in need of disguised cameras, I know Mama Afam has been on the look out for some. This one's pretty decent Eyenimal Pet Camera - Complete Set (Google Affiliate Ad)

I breathe heavily for at the moment my HEAD is empty indeed. I, Afam am a man of the world. I am immensely delighted and entertained by it. I'm ecstatic at my continued existence as several are not so fortunate as to have arms, legs, no known disability and life. So I strive to find some happiness in every waking moment. Sometimes this is hard, like when you wake up on a flight to find your self being cuddled by someone who could do without food for a year or when you put a lot of effort into a venture and find that it's not as successful as you hoped. Sometimes it's incredibly easy.

Take this random day in London for instance.

It was a Saturday about a week ago. I leaped out of bed at 8am. I can't possibly express to you how bizarre this is. I'm never awake at 8am on a Saturday. It's unheard of. On the days when I do wake up at this ungodly hour I obtain the countenance of a demon. You're probably thinking, "What does he mean when he says he develops the countenance of a demon?" I'll tell you. A dark miasma surrounds me. It swirls around me eager to inflict damage on any passer by. My skin is pale and my eyes are dull and squinty. The Miasma pulls the worst out of me. If you are so unfortunate as to ask me anything that requires more than a nod the answer you'll get will be more sour than orange juice just after you've brushed your teeth.

Where was I? Yes, the sun was shining outside, and even if it wasn't it wouldn't have mattered for my heart itself seemed to have become a mini sun of it's own, beaming amusement, felicity and truly stupendous levels of gaiety upon the general public. I wish you lot had been fortunate enough to have seen me on that day. My joy would have infected you like swine flu.

I threw on some clothes and bolted out of the apartment in Farringdon. I planned to have a little stroll around town but when I saw the the Barclays bicycles lined up on the road like so:
I thought, "Afam you mustn't waste such a delightful opportunity, as an adventurer you must hop on one of these bicycles and ride till your hearts content". That's exactly what I did. To be honest I'd have been delighted with just the average tourist experience but that's not what the universe had in store for me. After about 15 minutes on my bicycle I stumbled upon this.

 Interesting no? In that instant I thought "maybe insanity is a common trend world wide, and maybe London bus drivers are just as bad as our danfo drivers." What cause could a double decker bus have to slam into such a mediocre van? Surely the double decker bus driver must realise that his vehicle is the modern day equivalent of a battalion. It comes as no surprise that that double decker bus was sponsored by vodafone.

A danfo is the Lagosian equivalent of a bus. Having been in one I can testify that it is a miracle that most of them seem to transport a shocking number of people without any harm coming to the majority of them. A Danfo is any insurers worst nightmare. An excursion in one of them is bound to fail any risk assessment test in existence. 

Is it not a delightful creature? You might wonder at the bold and undoubtedly garish design but when looked at through all that smoke pouring from the exhaust, I can assure you  that the colour is quite mild. It becomes a muggy sort of gray.

 I'm not entirely pleased with Vodafone at the moment. I know we didn't think it possible but it seems that they managed to bugger me yet again. One would think that they'd have grown bored of causing me discomfort but I assure you that they haven't. It must be some sort of sport. Let's give this stupid chap who signed a 24 month contract with us a nice slap around the back of his head. I digress...

I carried on riding. At this point I was vaguely amused. I wondered what I would see next. I was already well aware that the day could not possibly be a normal one, that I would be confronted with scenes like this all day long. The next thing I stumbled on was a Barclays advert


 Action!! If you look closely you'll see Barclays scrawled across the board. 

Does anyone know what those things are actually called?

Is it not bizarre that I should happen on a Barclays advert while riding a Barclays bicycle? Unbeknownst to me, I was not riding a Barclays bicycle but a Barclies bicycle.


The Director of the advert interrupted filming because he'd noticed something. He walked over to where I was standing and stared at the bicycle, then stared at me. He did this for about 5 minutes during which I felt like some creature in the zoo. Then he whipped out his iphone and started taking pictures of me and the bicycle. I didn't know why. As he left he said "I like what you've done with the bicycle." I looked down and then it dawned on me. I had ruined the take because Barclays could not possibly run an advert in which one Afam would appear to be calling them liars.

 Above is a scene from the advert. That good looking gentleman gets into that sturdy looking relic of a vehicle and drives off. It occurred to me at that moment that Barclays could hardly be accused of false advertising for that locomotive device is very representative of the sort of service that the Afam household has come to expect from the bank, archaic, sluggish and oddly uncomfortable.

After that I rode down to Hyde Park to enjoy the quiet companionship that Asquith's friendship provide and to continue reading Oliver Twist.



 But even there I would have no rest. Asquith insisted on using me as his model. He proceeded to take the following picture of me.

I was fairly surprised at the result.

On that note I'll love you and leave you.

Happy Days,
Afam

Image was taken from Empire of Books. It isn't mine.

Monsters call all the time. They come in different shapes and forms, and I'm fairly certain that everyone's got a little monster on their back. A little devil, trying to ride them to the grave. The book is not about those sorts of Monsters though. It's about the coping mechanisms we form. It's about the way we deliver therapy to ourselves. It is haunting in it's brilliance, and even though I'll maintain that it is not a tragedy it is as sombre as one. It isn't a tear jerker like the Time Traveller's wife or like Harry Potter and the order of the Phoenix it's a more subtle. You identify with the main character even though he's only thirteen.

It's a book about dealing with adult themes and experiences. It's a book about life. It tells us that sometimes it's okay to be selfish. It's okay to put yourself before anyone else. It's very cleverly done. If I were to say any more about it, I would feel like I my love for the book isn't genuine. For all these reasons and more I have chosen A Monster Calls as my book of the Autumn.

"A Monster Calls" is about a boy who gives a monster reason enough to come walking. It's a book about self deception and the cushioning of blows. It's a book that teaches a principle from the school of Polonius, "to thine own self be true."

Happy Days,
Afam

I've had a little bit of a stressful action and adventure packed weekend. I really don't know where I get the energy to do some of the things I do but then again this is hardly surprising for I am Afam, I still get a certifiable high from a glass of Sprite. On Saturday night I was in Cirencester celebrating my friend's twenty-first birthday. I'll say more about him later. At this event I got to see friends that I had not seen in three years. It really is true that the more things change, the more they stay the same because we fell back into the old way of things so easily. It felt like it had only been a day and a half since I'd seen them last.

Now let me talk about this friend that I went all the way to Cirencester for.

Cirencester hasn't got a train station. The nearest station's Kemble.

I started at Cheltenham when I was 17. Before Cheltenham I had been at Loyola Jesuit College in Nigeria. Even that had had it's own challenges but after 6 ears of living with the same people a respectable equilibrium had been reached. I was amicable with all and friends with a few - a proper gentleman. I must confess that I was equal parts excited and scared of my first forray into the life of the English Public schoolboy. Within a few weeks, I was on the phone to mummy.

Enter Mama Afam and Afam

Afam: Mum, call me back NOW!

This is because it is not worth your pocket money to make an international call to Nigeria that lasts for anything longer than a minute.

Mama Afam rings back a few minutes later, before she can get a word in I state the purpose of the call.

Afam: Mum I do not quite like it here remove me at once!

Mama Afam: Pardon? You want me to deny you an opportunity that so many of your countrymen lack. You've even got Hot Chocolate on tap. I fail to see what could be so monumentally difficult about the school.

Afam: But I'm brutally unhappy. I know I'm a bit of a loner but this is ridiculous. I'm lonely!

Mama Afam: Don't be absurd! The people in your house are lovely. I even met your head of house, Jimbo. He's a brilliant chap.

Afam: He is but you can't possibly understand. I am the only black Nigerian. There are only two other Africans and we don't really talk because they both speak French. I dress weird, I talk weird, I'm uncertain about things I didn't have to think about before.

Mama Afam: I don't quite follow. Have you not made any friends at all.

Afam: It's been a little difficult. I've only been here for two weeks and we all know that the best friendships are not forged in two weeks. So while I do have friends, they're not the sort of friends I need. They're not the sort of friends you discuss all the intricate details of how you perceive the world. They're the sort of friends you complain to about the weather...

At the end of that phone call I was in tears. Mama Afam was shocked because I hadn't shown any of my tearful tendencies to her for about 4 years.

Soon after that I made my first real friend. I can't really describe how the friendship was formed but I looked at him and I understood that somehow we would be friends. That if there was any friend I needed in that crazy English jungle it would be him. For two years we spent most nights between 10pm and 12 am together, talking. It's a friendship that I can't forget or neglect because I forged it when there was a storm raging about me.

So when he said I'm going to be celebrating my 21st on the 15th of September save the date, the date was saved. And when he said it's going to be in Cirencester and not in London, I booked my train, and made plans to pass the night in his car (I eventually ended up passing the night in the stables, LONG STORY!). And when he said can you make sure that Bangy (Our Bangladeshi friend) makes it I did my best to ensure that he did.

So today I christen him Aburo. He has been awarded this title for incalculable services rendered. He shall be my "aburo" from now until the end of time, and if some fraction of me exists then, he will still be my brother.

Happy Days,
Afam.

The time has come for me to discuss the reshaping of the Lagosian coastline. Yes, this reshaping currently appears to be in the favour of the Afam household for we might soon be in the possession of a water front property. Of course we wish all those disadvantaged by recent events the best and we pledge our prayers to them. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about see the picture below.



You see, that infinitesimally small stretch of beach and that flimsy fence is all that separates one man's backyard from the Atlantic ocean. But even he for the time being is more fortunate than the owner of the vehicle below.
Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. That brand new hyundai has been claimed by the ocean. While it is easy to blame these recent events on any and every metaphysical power that currently exists it is important to note that 12 years ago this stretch of coast line was an area of deposition. It could boast of white sands littered with plastic bags and bottles. Well, that's one thing to be grateful for. The Ocean has taken the rubbish and dumped it elsewhere! Aren't you pleased? To the best of my knowledge the only thing that has changed since 12 years ago is the development of Eko Atlantic, a Venetian Paradise that will be opened in the near or far future. By that time I'm fairly certain that our dear friend in Goshen Estate shall be homeless, but it's a price worth paying. Yes, it's definitely worth the sacrifice because Lagos is the New Monaco (I didn't come up with this, it's in print).
Bintin and I were so startled by the submerged hyundai that we were compelled to film it.

I swore at the end of it, and Bintin giggled for she's the sort of person who'll stare death in the face and laugh.

After this we looked to the ocean for solace and found a road.
The road's supposed to go to Eko Atlantic but it's currently moving in the wrong direction. Eko Atlantic is somewhere to the right. If it continues in this direction I suspect that it will eventually run into Antarctica.

People often ask me how I can live in this country. How I can stay here for months at a time and not pine for Manchester. The answer's simple, Nigeria's really entertaining. With all this going on how could anyone not be entertained? Are you not entertained?

Happy Days,
Afam.

I was a little out of breath from my exertions on Saturday morning when I strolled into the Topman store. This was the Topman just across the road from Saint Paul's Cathedral. For this visit I had donned the aura of a minor Middle Eastern Baron. Chest out, tummy in, and arms swinging in both a pompous and twattish manner. I was trying to give the impression that I had cash oozing from me. But as you all know the emptiest barrel makes the most noise. I'm sure the Topman staff figured this out as well when I directed myself to the sales rack.

I tried one or two things on and prepared to leave. As I was leaving some sign caught my eye. It was a sign that I could not ignore.
I was intrigued. I hadn't known that Topman was so charitable, especially about a cause that I'm particularly sensitive about. I called one of the floor staff and asked him where the t-shirts were. He showed me. They're only four of them, and their designs are rather unique.

Each t-shirt is £18 and £5 of this goes to the teenage cancer trust.




I can't  comment on each individual t-shirt. If I could, I wouldn't care to. It isn't a matter of taste or style, it's surrendering your body to a higher cause. By buying and wearing one of these t-shirts you're saying "I'm well aware that there are others in need of my help (my love, my thoughts, my prayers, or my support), I may not know who they are or where they are and even if I did I would probably not be able to get to them. So not only will I contribute £5 to their cause, I will also wear this banner. I will be a walking poster of the Topman for teenage cancer trust because that's the least I can do as a decent human being."

This is mine. I will wear it to classes, to meet friends and on nights out. Thanks to the topman staff who let me have the poster card. It's going on my wall when I move into my studio.

Like my Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/theramblingsofamadmanafam?ref=hl

or

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Happy Days,
Afam.

It hurts when I try to write something and it's like ice coming out of my blood. This must be particularly hard to imagine because ice does not come out of blood but no matter, this is how I feel. I'm struggling to tell you about a book I read the other day. I'll try again.

It was a Friday night. I put on my pair of Marks and Spencers Aviators, a baseball cap and went down to my local Waterstones. I did not want to be recognised when I purchased the book in question. I didn't want to be caressed by judgy eyes as I paid for what has come to be known as mummy porn, or the house wives wet dream. I came up with the latter phrase myself. I know that women don't typically have wet dreams but I can say with complete confidence that the protagonist of this story has at least one wet dream. It was rather peculiar.

There was no way that I wasn't going to read the book, because it's what I do. Nothing entertains me better than rubbish. Because that's exactly what it is. It's shit, but it's awesome shit. I was helped along by a bottle of wine. It was a 2011 merlot, a decent vintage of vinegar from Echo falls, all for a whopping £5 (Do I need to tell you that the wine was gloriously bad?).

You may be wondering what it was that I purchased from Waterstones, I'll tell you. I picked up a copy of the immensely popular 50 Shades of Grey and it was exactly what the doctor ordered. Knowing exactly what it was before picking it up and reading it, I could not complain about it's quality because I knew exactly what I was signing up for before I bought it. To buy it and then proceed to rain down a ton of criticism would mean that I bought it knowing that I would not enjoy it. I am not capable of such levels of stupidity and masochism.


I sat down on the dining table with a large glass of my poison for the evening and dug in. It's poorly written, the dialogue is repetitive and the characters are equal parts bizarre and daft, but this only adds to the brilliance of the book. There were parts where I had to put the book down and blush, but after a large swig of my glass I was ready to continue. There were parts of it that had me guffawing for several minutes and there were parts that had me scratching my head in absolute wonderment. I was sad to get to the end for I still had about a quarter of a bottle left and no legitimate reason to drink anymore.

So if you've got an evening with no adventures planned why not colour in some Grey? Just don't expect it to be a classic.

Happy Days,
Afam.

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As you might have heard, in a sudden stroke of good fortune I, Afam have ungraduated from the university of Manchester. I shall be returning to Manchester for a fourth year to complete my third year. It's remarkably exciting isn't it? As I picture myself in lectures and the library and clubbing I begin to map out what it is I'd like to be wearing in the coming year.

Following my recent ungraduation, I have decided that it is time I don the cloak of maturity and ditch the more eccentric and undoubtedly foolish items of my wardrobe. It is no longer appropriate to show up to lectures looking like a geriatric hippy. Papa Afam claims that this and this alone is the sole reason for my bachelordom.

Also as i shall be joining the job market in the following year I have decided that the time has come to retire some of my old shoes, and replace them with more modern less tired looking versions of themselves just as 50 year old men tend to do with their 50 year old wives.

So let's get on with the show shall we.

These are Keats Loafers by Church's. Aren't they lovely. When I saw them in the store I could only stare. They were beautiful. I had to have them. I asked for the price and my dark face turned pale, £355. I flinched. In my mind all sorts of calculations were being processed. If you buy them then you'll have to eat one meal a day for about a month. If you buy them and eat normally then you can't buy anything else until February. I turned to Mama Afam to beg for some assistance but the daggers she stared at me forced my mouth shut and dried out my mouth. There was only one solution BICESTER VILLAGE!!!!!! I picked up a similar pair there for £190. Still a little expensive for a student but they are a justifiable expense.

People wonder why I often push myself to my financial limits lusting after the finer things that the world has to offer. There's a logical reason for this. A good pair of shoes that are well maintained can last a lifetime and though worn and battered any being that looks upon them will be sure to comment on their quality. However a bad pair of shoes regardless of how new, clean and shiny they may be will always be a bad pair of shoes. They will also probably have to be replaced every two years. By buying Church's I know that for the next decade or two my feet will be encased in the finest materials that the world has to offer.

While you're breaking in the Church's your feet will need some solace. Anyone who knows anything knows that even with they're extremely short life spans Toms are perhaps the most comfortable shoes available on the high street. They're also incredibly easy to pull off. You need not consider whether or not they go with whatever it is you have chosen to wear. The above pair can be yours for £37.

These are timberland boat shoes. Over the years they've become an essential part of my wardrobe. I started wearing them when I was 16. At 22 I still wear the shoes. When the sole was irreparable I got them resoled. Getting these shoes resoled costs about £85 but why buy another when you can have the ones that you know and love? They're like children. Even though we all know how to make them, when they fall ill we'd rather treat them than get new ones.

These are for the gym, or whatever sporty endeavour you feel that you may undertake in during your time in school. I do not need to tell you how great they are. You've always known that you've needed a pair of decent trainers in your arsenal. You cannot believe that it's taken so long for you to buy them. Don't wast any more time, click here. They're a respectable £50.

These are for everything else. Whenever you're in doubt about the footwear required for any casual affair put these on. They'll get you out of many a tight spot. Mine have endured grime, mud, sweat and blood. They've even endured prolonged periods of abandonment. They are about £36.

If you have all these shoes then you're prepared for any and every eventuality that university life can throw at you. Your feet will be sure to inspire double takes in passers by. I guarantee it with full confidence.

Happy Days,
Afam.

Happy Days, 
Ecstatic nights, 
Howling on the Manchunian way.

Captain Reginald.