Chutney mangoes

Today, right, I've been feeling quite bolshie. I went to my parents and had some lunch and engaged with them in conversation. Amongst other topics I told my Mum in particular about this new hand cream I'd bought (Mums are interested in hand cream). It cost me £10 for a smallish jar, it's from the body shop and it's called African honey butter - I cannot tell you how much I love it. I wish my whole life could be as good, as dreamy-creamy as this small pot of hand cream. When I smear it on my hands they smell gorgeous - I feel beautiful and sensuous.
I didn't actually go into all this detail with my parents. I rattled on about a number of subjects which I can't recall now. I took down their deckchair cushions from on top of the wardrobe which is where they reside in the winter months and furthermore I performed another couple of errands for them which contravened directly my essentially lazy nature but did make me feel good - like a good person.
Later on I played squash - had a rattling good game of squash - and somehow managed to retain a lot of energy. Actually, this is not good because now I feel extremely manic.