The Weeble is restored to us, after a recuperative spell back home.... and immediately the inane and salacious text message exchanges are resumed.
Last night, he was complaining that the steamy weather dissuaded him from joining me at any of the music gigs I was contemplating.
"I don't want to be anywhere in a confined space with a lot of hot, sweaty, young bodies," he whinged.
I replied, "I guess I'm going to that Shunyi schoolgirl orgy on my own, then."
And shortly afterwards, "That was a band name, of course."
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