Whistle and flute

I will be paying £20 of your finest English pounds have to my ever-so-slightly over-abundant locks attended to by a professional tomorrow.*
There's just a little part of me misses the vanishing era of non-nonsense stripey pole barbers but those are almost museum pieces now. Anyway, my regular hairdresser, Kim, is a grand lass. We almost always end up having long and rambley chats about life as a hairdresser versus life as journalist when I go in with tousled mane. On one occasion we even ended up discussing the future of the mobile phone. (It's wearable computers, I'm telling you).
I'm also quite tempted to go and buy myself a new suit. Flippin' 'eck, this is almost the male equivalent of a weekend at a luxury spa....I just hope George @ Asda have something in my size...**



*I'm having my hair cut
**Urnly jerkin***
***Or am I?