What have you got there, boyo? Shoes, is it?

[hirez]

I was up relatively early (I prefer early relatives to late relatives, although we're all late eventually) and toddled out to the greengrocer's to fondle some fresh produce.

"I hope you don't think I'm being rude," says the teenage woman behind the counter. (oh shit here we go. That sort of phrase is always the prelude to trouble, along with 'I'm not being funny, but...') "But I really love your hair."

Well, colour me surprised and not a little cheered by that.

Elsewhere, this chap writes a great deal of sense.