It's going to take more than a cold snap to keep the boy Tony indoors. He's well pleased with his beloved Arsenal, and as I write, he is looking forward to ending another week of glorious idleness, by walking to the pub, where he plans to enjoy a couple of pints, and no doubt give his opinion on any subject which takes his fancy. Of course, I couldn't possibly let him venture out alone, so I will be joining him at the pub.
Tony reckons that the British have become a nation of weak and feable pansies, who at the first sign of a dip in temperature, prefer to stay in and sit by a well-heated radiator, instead of going to the pub and indulge in a few pints of ice-cold lager.
I think he's right, and it makes me shudder with shame when I think that we're losing our aggressive edge.
Tony says that this winter will sort the boys out from the men, and if people think that it's cold now, they should spend a few nights at the North Pole, and then they'll see what being cold is really like.