Three beautiful boys

In one afternoon, two in the same place (a pub, surprise, surprise). The first, and oldest, although still only 12 or so, was sheltering from a thunderstorm in the entrance of a tube station which the bus I was on stopped outside, and was very reminiscent of the mega-beauty I saw on my way to work the week before last. The other two were younger, spotted in the pub where I had my encounter with Jake last month, the one who pinched my seat (at his mother's behest) while I was at the bar being particularly delightful, albeit much too young to do anything other than coo over. As ever, I'm sure the 'moral guardians' will hate me for even looking, but it's a bit of hard luck they're having, because I don't care, frankly, about their disapprobation.
And, in more good news, my internet connection appears to have returned to relative normality after the issues of the past few days, suggesting that it was a network hiccup, rather than a hardware problem at this end. My cup runneth over.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B