...nothing to do with West Ham football team, but some wretched television advertisement - all right, possibly the best as well as the worst ever - that has had H in stitches tonight.
Cue some impossibly handsome, freshly showered and naked-but-for-a-towel kind of cove sliding so easily towards the camera, explaining how some sort of chocolate confectionery has to be best enjoyed at a certain air temperature in order that the bubbles therein can release the true flavour of the sweet.
Cue then two unseen musing females - voiceovers I believe they are known in the trade - the one who remarks "So that's what the bubbles are there for!", to which the other responds "Sorry, was he speaking?"
Oh how we laughed! Well, H did anyways leaving me feeling so very mid-aged.
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