I think that my inner sloth and my inner pitbull may have invited a third creature to join the menagerie. My first clue was when my feet ignored my decision to try out a new route on this morning’s run and headed stubbornly for Wimbledon Common. My second was when I came across the remains of a picnic strewn across the common and found myself picking it up and putting it in the nearest bin.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I present…
… my inner womble.
Wombles rock so that’s ok.
I love Orinoco. That IS Orinico, right?
I follow someone on Twitter who puts rubbish in bins and tweets about it when running.
It is indeed Orinoco.
I had an operation in a hospital overlooking wimbledon common once. The anaesthetist asked me if I had seen any wombles. I was very confused. Apparently lots of people tell them they can, when high on morphine. Predictably I didn’t but was sick! Wombles are super awesome.