Actually...this outing aint going to be anything special. It's a Portsmouth outing. A Portsmouth outing with my only acquaintance being a rubber jowled lad who barks west-country spite and shakes with agitation (he has tourettes...fantastic)
He can direct his energies into a pack of Walkers. I'll carry out my covert mission of trying to smell some knickers under the table.

...then I'm going to cut it short and return to my wanky beermat.