Wallets.. Oh yeah, that thing you put everything from money and cards, photos of family, to last years GP Karting receipt and and your Kencell line’s PUK Number.
“But Kagz, Kencell doesn’t exist anymore.” EXACTLY, nephew!
I can’t quite count the number of times I’ve seen an acquaintance of mine reach into their pocket and emerged with a tattered excuse of a wallet. A wallet so old it would tell tales of the 1982 coup attempt; with frayed stitches and all, clinging on to dear life. One of those tri-fold wallets that make a guy look like he had a botched butt implant when it’s in their back pocket. The ones that you can feel wedged between you and your “sina taabu” mahogany bar stool. You know the ones I’m talking about.