Yo, fellow parachutists,

Having lost two stone over the past couple of years I can now fit back into my orange jeans for the first time in about six years and I thought I might slip 'em on tomorrow in order to show some "respect" for the name of the establishment in which we will be imbibing. I think they make me look really sexy but Annette thinks they make me look like a German tourist. Should you agree with her then we will be able to chuckle at m'pants and m'haircut. Maybe we can "orange" it up a bit more by quaffing vod and orange and scoffing duck a l'orange before singing the Dutch national anthem down the appropriate mobile phone.

Hey Colin, on the subject of strides, have you still got those "sailor-boy" blue and white pantaloons you purchased in Oxford Street 18 years ago? Do you still wear them on Sundays whilst watching Songs of Praise and singing along to the hymns of yesteryear in a low baritone with the gay abandon of a laughing cavalier? Do you then stand in the middle of your street with hands on hips and howl like a hyena as hordes of hussies come bounding up, unzip your flies and have a good old toke on your fish kebab? Or did you realise within five seconds of returning home all those years ago that wearing them would probably exude the same amount of coolness as bouncing up and down on a trampoline with a trombone sticking out of your arse. The future's bright. The future's orange. See you tomoz.Hoss.