did someone say drag queen cow print jacket?

Recently we were in London, and we were staying not too far from a gay bar called The Stag. One evening we dropped by, and a drag queen named Bette Rinse (I don't get it either) was hosting a country-western variety show. I was happily watching the show and drinking my Hoegaarden, when Miss Rinse pulled out a black-and-white cow print leather-and-suede woman's jacket. She explained that this was from her own collection, and that she would be auctioning it off that evening for charity. I've never participated in an auction before, and I was a little sad that no one was stepping up to make an initial bid, so I started things off. Well, I got the bug, and my hand just kept flying up, as I suddenly and inexplicably became determined to win this thing. And--£45 later--I did win this thing. So there you have it: my first auction, and I win a London drag queen's leather cow print jacket, which I then get to haul around with me to Cambridge, Paris, and then back home. Here I am trying to work it like Bono might. My only consolation is that either I've supported a cancer research in London or a drag queen's speed habit; either way, I feel it amounts to a good cause.

And, no, that's not a sweater. I really am that hairy. Feast your eyes now, for I vow not to reveal any more of my bear-rug chest on this blog.