See Nipples and Die!…

See Nipples and Die!…whey-hey!…missus, I mean, see Naples and Die, sorry there, my eye sight’s going…Oh Danny-boy..the pipes the pipes…hello there mate, you reckon my car’s ok parked on a double yellow today, I’ve come all the way from Southgate…from glen to Glen…and down the mountain side…hello there!!!…Ah yes, every boozah must have a resident madman on Christmas day, and boy, did our local hit the jackpot…I goes to the bar, while he’s in the bog and the barman says to me, he with you?…I say, no, I thought you knew him, the way he’s shouting at you and the regulars…I say to my dad, don’t look at him dad, avoid eye contact or he’ll be over…Eventually, he’s worn out his welcome and he’s dispatched into the Christmas day cold and good bloody riddance to mad, bad, rubbish

Robinson Crusoe

It strange what loneliness, boredom and isolation can do to a mans brain over Christmas; I understand completely what went through Robinson Crusoe’s mind, or the Count of Monte Christo’s even when they took up the noble art of beard growing. I’m sure they, like me, tried the goatie, toyed with the full-on beardie and even had a stab at the Hitler look. My only wish was that the missus would’ve let me carry on with the growth, but she offered me a choice instead, loose the beard, or loose me…a tough one and I’m not completely sure I made the right decision, not yet anyway…maybe not ever

Jesus, is there anything worse than sailing passed your station last thing at night, fast asleep and pissed out of your head?...well, yes there is actually, and that's getting on the wrong bloody train in the first place and waking up at the end of the wrong line entirely!!...So, Tuesday night, or early morning I wake up in Enfield Town, after a great night out, and have to fork out for a bloody cab...£25 later I'm home, totally disgusted with myself...but not as disgusted with myself as I was the following morning when I'm puking down the bog, at my age, I ask you...spent the rest of the day piecing together the night before, wothout a lot of suscess
Today went to Audley End for a kids day out to see Santa's grotto in the woods, via a miniature railway trip. Kids loved it, freezing cold.
That's it. Happy Christmas.

Level checking

Last working day today, working from home, fifth day out of the office and I’m going a little stir crazy already; bloody good job I’m off out tonight for my second and last Christmas piss-up! Should be a good night out, lot’s of promised shows, but you know with this lot, always letting old stevie down....still, I’ll be there and that’s the main thing. Fuzzy details to follow, stand-by...

Yesterday the family and I went into town for a freezing wander around the park and shops and after lunch we all went back to bed for the entire afternoon, all being knackered. Then, the missus got ready for yet another night out with her mates…feeling sorry for myself, I found the key to the booze cupboard, and expertly raided it for some warming sherry…yes, sherry.
I know she’ll have gotten in last night and checked levels and seals on the bottles but fuckit I was sad and feeling sorry for myself; actually, note to self, replenish chrimbo booze supply before missus discovers horrible truth on Christmas day, when we’re “officially” allowed to have a drink from the booze cupboard....cheers!

Demis Roussos - "He's fantastic isn't he?"

‘Tis the season for Christmas parties and last night was the wife’s. Hertford’s Matalan hired the local sports club bar for the evening and everyone came along in his or her best Matalan tops and strides. I got a call about 10:00pm from a pissed missus saying they were off to Sky night club in town after the work do and I suspected the worst.
Sure enough, 1:30am she brought, what seemed, the entire home ware department home with her.
As the noise level increased, music and shouting rose up to me in my bed, I was transported back to the70’s, when my mother used to bring back friends from the pub. Those parties always resembled a warped kind of Abigail’s party, you know, plenty of bizarre and grotesque characters, lot’s of smoking and drinking and with Demis Roussos blaring in the background.
I’d patter down to the living room and wade my way through the throng to my mother , who’d invariably be sitting on some blokes lap, and ask her to turn the music down a bit as I had school the next day, only to be told to piss-off back to bed, and she’d hurl something at me as I’d make my escape, and one of her “friends” might lunge at me and I’d have to duck and weave my way back to the relative safety of my room to cry my eyes out.
It’s funny how, years later, the muffed sounds from a downstairs party can still have such a powerful effect on me.

Last night I lay in my bed but my head was in the 70’s

would sir like me to rub that for you sir?

My weekend.
Managed to get a pint of Kroni in Friday night with the boy before he started to complain about being ill and bored with me…so took him home and started on my bottle of red wine and the final couple of episodes of series 3 Star Trek: Voyager. I managed to stay at one bottle though, proud of myself I am.
Saturday, Ware Christmas festival, stalls in Tudor square, bands on every corner, special events in the museum and other places, made for a nice afternoon out. I bought the missus another present in a knicker emporium, bra and pants, £50!! Fucksake, I buy a 3 pack of pants for under a tenna!…the women in there, both old biddies and I go in there thinking, I’ll need some help her, so I say, "I don’t want anything tarty I want summat classy" and she says, looking down her nose at me, "I think you’ll find we only sell classy underwear here sir"…so, me backtracking say, "oh yeah, well, of course, I can see that", as I’m looking over her shoulder at a red and white combo with fur edging-comedy style bra and knicker piece.

I was hoping for some young lady shop assistant types to be honest so I could do my little-boy-lost routine and ask for help and they fall in love with me a little and mebbe even model a couple of outfits for me, but it wasn’t to be. In fact the old biddie helping me did suggest she put on a couple of the classier lines for me, noticing my semi-chubby-on no doubt, but I declined. I was, in fact getting a little horny, I must confess, it’s something about visualising women, I mean the missus, in all these weird and wonderful, see-thru and skimpy underwear I suppose and when the biddie says to me, does your wife wear thongs? And thrust a pair in my face, I nearly popped there and then I tell ya!. ....Hurriedly I got myself outya there with whatever I could grab, I just hope the missus appreciates the red and white combo with fur edging-comedy style bra and knicker piece, that’s all..

Sunday, lazy Steve day, took younger lad and bobby the cat for a walk into town

We gonna ring-rang-a-dong for a holiday!

You gotta watch what you say in our house these days, the smashers are liable to pick up on every little thing you say, every nuance is picked over and a slip of the tongue can leave the missus and I jaw-droppingly wide eyed…and yes, ashamed at times…
Take last night for example, there we all were, watching Holiday, with that irrigating new presenter Ginny Buckley, with her mouth that seems to move independently of the rest of her face and has her talking “off” camera about a topic, likes she’s chidder-chatn’ to a mate in a bar and we’re like, just, eaves dropping or something….or there’s her slow mo’ shots wandering, like a cloud, through cityscapes, forests, beaches etc ahhh! Get her off the telly!!!…any-hoo…we’re watching some ex-rough guide tosser, grinning from ear to ear like he cannae believe his luck he’s being paid to spend time in Bali when I innocently say, while watching a typical Kecak dance, “me so horny, me love you long time”…when, like an echo, the elder smash says, “me so horny, me love you long time”…and I look up, where he’s perched on the sofa, repeating over and over what I’ve just said, savouring these new exotic words as they roll innocently off his tongue; luckily the missus is washing up or something, so misses this, but I fear for the future, especially boxing day when her family gather…let’s see, how might it go…8 hour family day hell, no television, no music, long drawn-out silences, dull conversation, tired and bored children…when... "me so horny, me love you long time”…

Why don't you do something to help me?!

ah well, no, had a good evening without too much embarrassment as it goes. Half way through yesterday though I remembered I got up to dance at one point, but otherwise, reasonably guilt and embarrassment free evening. I had a plan see, get the 11:40pm train, so at 11:00pm I lumbered off to find me a cab. £20 quid and a Christmas present I bought the missus earlier, lighter, I'm on the train shouting down the mobile to a mate to collect the present I'd hung up with all the coats..That done, I settled down to sleep for the 50 minutes journey to Ware...or Hertford East as it turned out, having sailed passed my station, as per usual, on these kind of evenings...£10 later, the cab drops me home, having spent £30 on a "free" night out., I can't complain, food was nice n'all.

Wednesday, day off, recovering. Stayed in all day. sleeping and watching Laurel and Hardy.

oh christ...

Jesus...oh...god...no....nooooooooooooooooo!!

Christmas Party: I'm gonna pull me a cracker!

After spending almost 2 hours in the car, crawling home Friday, what I needed mostly was Kroni, and so it came to pass that, verily, I sank 2 pints before descending into the usual Friday blur of red wine, pizza, Star Trek and QI.
Saturday, went to Hertford for the annual rip-off “continental” market, where stall holders with very dodgy “European” accents try and con people into paying £5 for a loaf of French bread, I kid you not. But, clever we are, we opted for the bakery option of cold sausage roll before ascending the Hertford museum stairs to view the amateur railway enthusiasts layout, put on specially for the smashers of Hertford. The room, predictably, was full of weird and wonderful railway geeks, drooling over gauges, toy town models and engines.
That evening, after an afternoon of soul searching, I decided to drive into Whitechapel to meet up with an old friend, who I’ve not seen in a good while, who has decided to up-sticks and go and live in Thailand. The soul searching was, shall I go at all? Shall I get the train in, if I do go, or shall I just drive in? Laziness and the usual trepidation of late night train journeys forced my hand though.
3 shandy’s and a lemonade later, I’m ready to leave, boy I am I ready. Christine’s mates, for it is she who is leaving, are a mixture of Goths and School teachers, all nice enough, but when yir sober and waiting on the only other person you know, who’s promised to come at 7:30pm but turns up instead at 9:30pm, 3 hours is a long time. Job done anyway, you cannae say I didnae turn up, say ‘bye and good luck and here’s your Christmas card. No you can’t.

Sunday, lazy day, sounds wonderful, but that means, doing nothing because we’re skint, but it also means the smashers are bored out of their minds, so play up, leaving the missus and I exhausted. Lesson there somewhere. Watched Elf though, in the afternoon like, which was nice. That evening the missus goes out for her second meal that weekend, leaving poor old me to finish watching disc 6 of episode 3 of Star Trek:Voyager. Oh yes.

Tonight is the annual company Christmas party, my first work outing since joining the company. I’ve booked tomorrow off, so I can have a drink and not worry about anything. Stand by for depression, guilt, wishing I could turn the clock back 24 hours. Etc.

Can I have a Frisbee, pen, stress ball and mouse mat please?

I’m off to Online Expo in Earls Court Olympia today. It’s the highlight of the Industry’s year, where all the information vendors and providers get together to exhibit.
To be honest I’d rather not go, but have been “asked” to go by the boss. It’s usually full of middle to low ranking librarians or information/knowledge managers out on a jolly, away from the Office, stocking up on useless give-a-way corportate junk and I’ve sort of been there, done that; it’s not like much has changed over the years, same old companies, same old junk but with a newer front-end or summat…sigh…s’pose it beats work.
So, soon, I gotta get myself onto a train then tube, meet up with some people, wander about the Expo, go to some dull seminars about the “future” of Enterprise Search then struggle home in rush hour across London. Groan.

Fish Curry, par excellence

Not a bad weekend, Friday, after work, with every intention of not drinking any booze, what-so-ever, I get home, after a 2, yes, 2 hour drive, to find my dinner on the table and a nice glass of red poured…so what’s a bloke to do? Managed to keep to one bottle though, so am dead proud of myself.

Saturday, school bazaar, after wandering round town looking for a cheap pressie, from the smashers, to the missus for xmas. The bazaar, was, of course, full of screaming brats, so I didnae stay long. That evening we drove to mates house in Walthamstow for dinner. Unable to get a babysitter, we had to bring them with us, and for a jolly joke I turned up at their door alone and said, I’ve left them all at home, it’s just me tonight! And the look of relief on me mates wife’s face was a picture. Sadly, for her, after a tour of the council estate they live on, we all pilled into her flat. The boys, bless them, were all excited about visiting a real council estate so I spared them nothing of the horrors when I whizzed them round, not staying too long in any one spot mind, for fear of being mugged. Dinner was alright. see pictures below.

Sunday, lazy day, wandered into town, got a dounut from Tesco for myself as a wee treat for being, well, great I suppose, nice to not be plagued by self loathing and doubt all the time, I feel. That’s it. My weekend.

My smasher, re-telling of the time he walked into the bathroom, while I was towelling off. Claire looks to be in deep thought, a smile playing on her lips...atta boy, you tell her

You know, they tell me they don't want kids of their own, but just look how natural and happy they look with my smasher!

Dave, preparing our meal Saturday. I must say, the kids were thrilled to be inside a real ex-council flat, on a real council estate, for the first time. They thought it such things were the stuff of legend and myth. Needless to say, I kept a close eye on my car parked outside the whole evening. Food was alright.

Hello, my good friend

Any way I spin this, it's gonna come out all wrong, me a Guardian reader too! But I think it's worth telling because the outcome, if you like, is worth the anguish I'm currently going through, in my wet-liberal, wrist-wringing way. Don't judge me till the end, please...

So then, the other morning, fresh from my daily gym sessions, I'm making my way, across the car park, to my office...a one minute walk, weaving between the cafe and various other ex-warehouse buildings used by us new media types, when I'm accosted by a black man. Now, it's still pitch black and my immediate instinct was to take flight, but it turns out this fellah just wanted to talk to me, about me! What time do I get here, where do I go in the mornings, where do I work and so on, apparently I fascinate him and he's been dying to ask me these questions for ages!
I regained my composer, of course, and chatted away to him, and when I got to my office and sat down with a cup of hot sweet tea, I thought, ahhh that was nice, I must say hello to him each morning from now on.

Now then, here's the dodgy part, the thing is...I don't can't remember what the fuck he looks like and in the mornings here, around the complex, there's maybe a dozen African black blokes about the place, cleaning, mopping, delivering and so on and I'm ashamed to say, they all look like the fella who chatted to me; So, and here's the nice redeeming bit, I give them ALL a cheery hello each morning now. Some, sure, just look at me, others grunt and a couple actually smile and say "morning" back and I'd like to think I'm connecting to my mate, somewhere, somehow each morning and the others, well, I just hope I'm making their day a little more pleasant. It's my way of giving something back to these people and I love myself for it.

Hair flick!

This is always a dodgy time of year, increasingly though, it's becoming worse each year, as Christmas encrouches closer and closer into November. 10 years ago I'd be at the stage I am at right now, maybe only couple of weeks before Christmas day.

Look here, this is what I mean, I say to the missus what I could do with for Christmas, she says fine, from that list I'll get you something, probably...maybe...but wait and see, in the meantime, DO NOT buy yourself anything till after Christmas!
Now, if I ask for silly things, like a dog robot, or some flying lessons, this would not be a problem. But, I'm a practical man see, I don't want for much, so when she asks, I usually opt for some books, some socks, a tie or some aftershave...all things in other words, I'm likely to impulse buy myself...but I can't now, the next few weeks I'm not allowed to buy anything for myself!

This year, I've asked for the usual, plus one of those home shaving and hair-care kits; you know the type of thing, trims beards, nostril and stray ear hairs (pet hates) as well as giving the user a classic number 2 all over. Nice one Steve, but the thing is, my hair is fast approaching my shoulders, it's curling in all sorts of weird and wonderfully gay ways, cascading from my youthful head like an Adonis. It's true, but I cannae get it cut till after Christmas, just in case like, she's gone and bought me the shaver. So, in the meantime, I'll pop my curls up into a bunch, or tie back with an Alice band, hang a few stray wisps over my forehead and make do. my new look.

Expo...NOT!

Today I’m working from home and have woken up with a kinda tight feeling in me chest. Stress and anxiety no doubt, but worrying, this of course from a complete hypochondriac I know, but look, the way I see it, is I’m a 37 year old, overweight male, with 2 young kids and a stressful job (cough) so why the fuck shouldn’t I be worried a little when my body starts to give me pain?…Too scared to go to the doctors, although I have been thinking lately a men’s health check-up is about due…Think I’ll have a lie down soon, see if it passes..
The weekend was ok, went to see me sisters on Saturday to give my niece her birthday pressie, earrings, and see my sisters latest bit of home upgrade, new carpet and decoration in hallway and stairs. Nice. Then off to MacDonald’s for a late lunch. The rest of the day, I think I slept, only to awaken by the wafted aroma of cooking chicken curry coming up the stairs. Picked up eldest from a party he went to in town, and got me an extra bottle of red wine while in town, is why I volunteered in the first place. Watched Lady Killers on DVD, was ok, not one of the Coens best, in my opinion.

Sunday, I was supposed to go the Olympia Erotic Expo with me so-called mates. All set we were, emails sent out, loose plan arranged, price of outing established (£18 – entry) but at last minute, I get txt from them, letting me down. I tell ya, the other week, all I heard from certain people, was how I let them down, by not coming out for a drink, on a Monday night, in West London, soooo unreliable they said, but these same people, single people, no kids people, no evening working wife, these people cannae be arsed to come out for a beer on a Sunday, not the evening, not a work night you understand, no, Sunday afternoon! So, instead of a lads day out drinking, went for a walk instead, using the walk-a-count thing, you know the thing, attach it to yir jeans and it counts the number of steps you take. Think it’s not working properly though, as I only managed 4 thousand steps the entire day and it recommends you take 10,000! Bollocks to that.
Late afternoon, me mate Doug txted me, he’s on his way to the Expo, driving down from Northampton no less, wanting to meet up. I had the shameful task of informing him, that me mates had let me down, so I was at home, not in a pub in Earls Court

Monday, day off, in Lieu, for that Saturday work I had to do a while back. Did nowt much, re-varnished living room floors mainly.

I want to be good

I can't always get things right, try as I might, sometimes things just go wrong don't they? if not from your own point of view, then from someone else's. This morning, for example, 6:10am I'm obeying the speed limit right, but I'm being tailgated by some complete idiot, I mean serious lunatic so anxious to get passed me on a narrow road, he'd risk his life and mine to do it! Eventually, he undertakes me, causing me to swerve and apply the brakes sharpish. He's ahead of me now, all of one second and 50 yards later, he pulls over to go into a shop! I mean, why for Christ sake, all that botha, all the danger and latent aggression to get one second ahead of me?...I had a good mind to pull over myself and have a pop, but you just can't these days can you?...so I drove by, slowly, giving him the eye and a wanker sign, not that he was looking at me, too ashamed for himself I bet.

Last night, my sister called, saying there was snow on the ground in West Herts! so it begins then, winter upon us and sure enough, this morning I'm scraping the first ice of the year off my car. I love waking the neighbours, by running the engine while I scrape, painfully and deliberately, away on ALL my car windows. It shows to them that the work ethic is alive and well in my road. Look at me everyone! I'm going to work ya lazy feckers!..

My sister was also telling me of the latest wheeze her eldest has come up with for a career move, if the army doesn't accept him because of his dodgy hearing. He wants to become an Actor no less! Of course, being the supportive mother she is, and conscious not to discourage him in any way, laughed in his face for a full 2 minutes and when she told me I laughed down the phone for another two, the silly wee cunt.

Daddy, my Daddy!

The missus took the elder smash to Saturday morning pictures and left me alone with, Damien smash, as I’m beginning to think of him…Just like Rodney in Only Fools, I look on Fred’s sweet face but can only see pure concentrated evil lurking between the gaps in his milk teeth. At night, I mount the stairs for the 10th time of an evening, hearing his demonic-like screams and grunts with genuine fear and trepidation. I push open his door to be met with freezing cold air and make my way to his cot, he’s standing up, gripping the sides, shaking the bars for all he’s worth…it’s scary, but instead of a cross pressed to his forehead, a dummy pressed into his gob suffices. I turn the heating on, shout at the fucker to go to sleep, and stomp back down stairs..

Any-way, so, Saturday I take him to see his granddad Bill, my father, who I haven’t seen myself in months. He’s just been paid his pension, so was eager for me to drive him into town so that he could cash it in the Post Office and hit the boozah. Nice seeing him, but I declined his offer of a pint and instead promised I’d pop back over at Christmas eve to pick him up. Total minutes visiting time, 30 minutes! a record I think.

A walk into town

Life can sometimes throw you some absurd and surreal situations to deal with; it has a way of manipulating a common or garden event into something that tests your ingenuity, endurance and patience to the max! Take Saturday, for example, I decided I walk the baby smasher into town to hire me a DVD for the evening. He's at the age now where he eschews the buggy, where possible, and totters on his own to pins, while I wander beside him wheeling the empty buggy. Fine, no problem there, but lately my fucking cat Bobby has taken to following the family around town; the missus says he's always following her to the school to drop off and pick up the elder smash. So, Saturday, sure enough, he's following me down the road, squawking at me as he’s weaving between the parked cars, racing across busy roads, hoping onto walls and generally winding me right up. I’m thinking, he’ll turn back soon; he’ll get worried he’s over extending his territory and turn to find his way home, but no, he carries on into town with us. So, I have a dilemma, I now have a very anxious looking cat, on a busy high street, an independent baby smasher who wants to walk…and an empty buggy…2 minutes later I have a much happier cat plonked in the buggy seat and a smasher eager to push him around. I didn’t have the guts to catch anyone’s eye on the high street, but I suspect our party had a few odd looks…Oh look, there goes a bloke who thinks his fucking cat is a baby…I tell ya, sometimes…just sometimes I long for the bachelor life

Inside my brain

It happens rarely, but when it does, ticking off the boxes becomes Childs play. Get this right, I'm in the swimming pool this afternoon and I spy, along with every other red blooded male between the ages of 14 to 100, a bit of a sort in a skimpy bikini, I swear the bottoms were almost thongs, must be all of 18 years old. Now, here's what happens, can you guess?...she goes into the sauna and a third of the men present follow her, casually, inside, the other third hedge their bets and opt for the steam room, thinking she'll be bound to have a steam after her sauna, while the other half think laterally and head for the Jacuzzi, thinking outside the box, or their trunks and hoping that, after a sauna, she'll want a soak not a steam.

It's pathetic of course and demeaning and I'll have no part in it. In fact I do, but I use the situation instead to my advantage, so while she's in the sauna and everyone else is on standby elsewhere, the pool is virtually free! When she comes out of the sauna, I go into it, knowing that within seconds, it'll be empty...basically I'm one step behind her, instead of one step in front of her or 10 seconds behind her.

Arthur like to dress-up, I tell him it's ok to be creative, to express oneself through drama & make-up but he's taken to air kissing me and calling me Love when he sees me. I'm worried.

Open wide

I bit into an orange Tuesday and experienced a sudden shock of pain on the upper right hand side of my face, obviously a dodgy tooth I concluded, once the pain had subsided. I got onto the dentist my wife and smashers use, me not having registered yet, in the three and a half years I've lived here. It's an NSH/Private practice and when I said I'd like to come in to register and for a check up, booked me in for 1st February 2005!...
Jesus, so I booked it, but then thought, I can't wait 3 months for Christ sake!...so called a new practice in town, no problem sir, come in next Tuesday! Great, my nerves were allayed when I read all about their treatments, state of the art stuff, gels, high powered air drills, the works...no 20th Century medieval torture instruments here, no, it's the business I tell ya, and for once I'm looking forward to going, no pain! but pricey and I'm thinking, so what?...it's a small but heavy price to pay if I suffer no pain!..
Not so, of course, when the missus found out, she ordered me to get back on the phone, cancel the appointment and sit the pain in my tooth out till February THEN go get myself drilled to fuck my some commonwealth student dentist with a blunt drill and hook!...better a little pain than huge dentist bills, says she, easy for her to say, it's not her mouth and it's not her wallet...but for an easy life, I cancelled and am now on 6 aspirin-a-day waiting for February 2005 to come around...

Bypass

False alarm about the specs! I got home Friday night to find the boy unburdened with spectacles. The optician reckons that his time has not yet come, one day, but not yet. To celebrate, I took him out for a pint for me and a coke and crisps for him in my local.
For those of you who think country living is dull and uninteresting, I've got some news for you, it ain't, not by any means. Sunday, for example, after a trip to Van Hague's garden centre to look at the model polar bears and xmas lights we took ourselves onto the new stretch of the A10 bypass! It felt like it must have done for those early motorway pioneers in the 1950's who take their Morris Minors onto a gleaming new road for the first time. Traffic was light, and because it runs smack through, what used to be, open countryside, there was plenty of dead wildlife littering the roadside to keep the smashers entertained. I'd say, it was defo my highlight this weekend. Does this tell you anything about my weekend?...anything at all?

Penfold

Today my son goes for the third time this week to the Optician to have his eyes re-tested and a pair of glasses fitted and it's made me incredibly depressed I have to say. Mortality creeps into everyone's life at some stage, time damages us all and there's no reason why these shouldn't apply to my son, but I'm finding it hard to accept for him. He's my baby, he's perfect, nothing can touch him and nothing can harm him...he seems to have accepted his fate better than me, when I'm sobbing at his feet, apologising to him for my failures as a father in not shielding him from short sightedness, he's patting my head and rolling his trains over me, telling me everything's gonna be alright...ah well, there's always layser treatment in 10 years time..
Something that's cheering me up however is the younger one's antics at the moment. Whenever I say "No!" to him, he throws himself, headfirst, onto the floor and kicks and screams! It's an incredible response, real spoilt brat stuff and it cracks me up. Poor sod though, he's in a real hole with this now with me, he only has to wander passed me, minding his own business, when I'll say "Fred....no..." and he'll hit the deck!...He'll look at me as he comes in the room, I'll shake my head (indicating "no" ) and down he'll go, prostrating himself, screaming, but somewhere in his head he must be thinking, hang on a minute!..why am I doing this exactly?...The missus tells me off, especially when I've had enough laughing, get up and leave the room, chuckling, leaving her to deal him him, calm him down etc..
Picture of my 4-eyed son to follow...sniff

Smashers 5th b'day weekend

Where to start, that’s the thing…I’ll skip Friday, nothing interesting happened then, and move onto Saturday. We all went for a walk into town, library, Tesco’s. the usual…hang on, should skip this bit too…had me a purge on the kitchen and bathroom, I cleaned it’s arse, top to bottom…Had some company coming see, me mate Doug and his missus from Northampton, and me sister. I cooked some pasta with bacon and mushrooms, all standard stuff until Doug told me that it was the first time he’d ever eaten bacon! And he loved it, had 3 portions of the stuff…Then we all went into town, met another mate Nige from St Albans and his missus, and we all got hammered. End of night, I go to the bar and get 2 bottles of red wine, a tenna each, to take home. Once indoors, most lost the will to live, struggled to watch The Day After Tomorrow, sank one bottle of red between us, before going to bed..rock and roll it wasn’t.
Sunday, I managed to get up to wave them all bye, but went straight back to bed, my head pounding…and that was pretty much it for Sunday…
Monday, Arthur’s 5th birthday, he had loads of pressies to open. We took him and Fred to the swimming baths, then MacDonalds for lunch. Later, he had a couple of his mates round for games and tea. I was still suffering, it’s Tuesday now, and I still am..

Lookers

So, I've had the car for one year now, not a scratch on it, 20 thousand miles done, up from about 9,000 when I bought it. I just been down to Lookers Nissan garage to pick up my car from it's service..
oh, sorry not ready sir, have a loan car till tomorrow...
OK, but I gave you my mobile number if there was any problems like, save me coming all the way down here see, you coulda just, like, called me!...by the way, how much will this service cost me?...
Hmmm...ooo-eeerrr...(sucks teeth)....hmmmmyir looking at £225..
What!!!!
Christ, nothing wrong with it, what-the-fuck!! and guess what, the reason I is getting it serviced it because it's tax is due end of month, fuck me, another £100!...I mean, for godsake..and the missus, just now, Oh yeah, my MOT and tax is due next month too!...bollocks...One good thing, I get t o drive around in a smart new Micra tomorrow...that'll be good...christ, i is upset i tells ya!

The big chill

The coal man came yesterday and deposited 8 sacks worth of coal on our doorstep. I'm thinking, ok, summer's defo over then, as I stare out of the bedroom window as rain lashes over his lorry. Sigh, working from home yesterday, the missus said, oooo I'll make us a nice fire, and she does too, and very excellent it was n'all, all cosy last night, watching The Big Bounce on DVD which was total and utter shite by the way. Take myself off to bed 10:30pm
This morning, 5:00am, cold snap defo here and I'm outya bed shivering like a wanker, Oi! missus wake up, the heating's not come on and I is freezing here!!...
Whoa, oh...erm...yeah...I turned the timer off yesterday because we had a fire on...says she, and goes back to sleep..I turn the light on, OK, let's have this out, right now! LEAVE the timer turn on, DO NOT touch it, turn off the radiators if you want to, turn down the thermostat, but NOT the heating. That said, I shivered off to get dressed, not sure she even heard me as it goes...she was pretty tired, she came home last night, 11:20pm, I was up sorting out a smasher with an ear ache. I go up first, get in bed, thinking, christ I gotta be up in under 6 hours! groan...BANG! CRASH!...whoa! She's only in the baby's room, tidying it up, putting toys away into a huge toy box!! I mean, 11:30pm, leave it for gods sake! Do it in the morning!!....come to bed, I need sleep!!!!!

Another Lemonade Steve?

After a long and exhausting struggle, I decided to take myself off to a get-together in the City last night. After work, I went to the Gym for a swim to kill some time, then got the train into Moorgate and wandered up to the Cross Keyes.
The reason I was agonising about showing up was the usual, leaving the car at work, getting home that night by train, pissed, getting into work the next day on the train, hung over etc...So, I thought, play it safe, stick to the shandy's and lemonades, see how it goes...3.5 hours later, bloated with fizzy pop, I made my excuses to a load of drunks, and got the tube back to work, got in the car and was home by 10:30pm.
This morning, I'm glad I did, in the Gym 6:30am this morning, feeling fine. Niggling feeling somewhere at the back of my mind about, bailing out on a drink sesh, letting mates down by being boring etc, but what the feck, I is not a kid anymore, I need my sleep, I cannae mix hangovers with work like I used to. Still, not a bad night, a great turn out, some very old faces turned up, and guess what? I remember the whole evening, everything people said to me, amazing. From now on, I do my heavy drinking alone, at home..

Arthur, the day of his first Disco

The Needle

Needless to say, he didnae pull..wasting my time I tell ya...So, Saturday, he licked his wounds and came into town with me and his mum and his brother, I said, son, you gotta show yir face mate, walk tall and all that, proud of him I was. That afternoon, he had another chance by hosting, with his wee mate, a joint birthday party in a local play barn. a dozen 5 year olds, screaming in an enclosed space doesn't sound like an ideal way to spend Saturday afternoon, and in all honesty, it wasn't. I tried to get out of it, but the missus, quite rightly, reminded me that it was my son's 5 birthday party, and I really ought to be there..sigh...
I wish I could've been a little more enthused, but try as I didn't much, I just could not look unhappier to be there...and it wasn't lost on all the mummy's either, who said as much to the missus during the party. What is wrong with me?!!...That evening, I sank 2 bottles of Kronie to calm down, my nerves red raw, calmer still at the end of the night with a bottle of red wine and a 10 inch pizza inside me.
Sunday, he couldn't wait till his actual birthday, 25 Oct, to open his presents his little friends had bought him, so we filmed him and took pictures of him, tearing open his gift. how sweet. But I'd had enough, I took baby smash to my sisters to stay out of the way whilst the missus transferred the digital images to the PC, then to photo paper, then to thank-you cards...Jesus..

Friday night's great for fighting

Tonight my eldest smasher goes to his first school disco, and charmingly, he turned to me, rather than the missus for some advice on dance and pulling birds technique. Naturally, I was happy to oblige. I've waiting a long time to share my skills and talents with the younger generation, typically they fail to pick up on my style when I do my thang on the dance floors around Britain and Europe, preferring to give me a wide birth instead, hoping I'll run out of puff before the track plays out, and I'll go and sit down for the rest of the evening...
So, then, tonight I'll be dressing the smasher in, I think, black, all black of course and mebbe put some gel in his hair, spike it up a bit; a spray of Old Spice I have knocking about somewhere to smell nice for da laydeeez and I'll bung on some Apoptygma to pump him up in readiness for the dance floor. Once the image is complete, I'll then run through some steps with him, starting with a hip wiggle, a twist, a dummy half twist, some vague waving hands in the air but warning him off his natural inclination to bang his fists into his head like some mad mullah (Christ knows who taught him that, the missus probably)....
Image and Dance sorted, finally the confidence booster which, in all my years, never failed me, that's right, two cans of Tenants Super. Are we ready to paaaar-tay!!...He's gotta be quick mind, it only lasts an hour so I've coached him, 5 minutes at the bar, looking cool, 5 minutes on the dance floor, possibly 10 depending on the music, NO American crap I've warned him, and 45 minutes working the room, table hoping, mine sweeping and chatting up the birds, working on another failsafe principle of one-in-ten, chat 10 birds up, one, at least one'll end up coming home with you.

bulbs

I was watching Room 101 last night, well, bits of it and Harry Hill was moaning about speed humps and general traffic calming measures…You know in the morning, when your auxiliary bladder fills up and you’re making tents in bed?…this morning, in my dreams, I’m encountering speed bumps in the road and I’m changing down, only to awaken and find I’ve my hand wrapped around me knob, doing the gear shifting movements, Christ I’m thinking, good job I didnae have to do a reverse…

Had an otherwise dull weekend, Sunday had to be the dullest day I’ve experienced in a long time, it’s funny because normally I long for nothing to do, just lay about and read, eat, watch TV you know, but Sunday I bounded outya bed all keen to make a difference to shed number 2. Clear out the crap, the bits of wood etc, and take it down the dump s’as I can fit my bike back in the shed. So, I leaped from my bed, bounded up the garden, tore open the shed door only to loose complete and utter interest the moment I set eyes on the mess…so I took myself to a chair and watched the missus and the smashers plant 100 Daffodil bulbs instead. Exhausted, I then took myself to the sofa, and there I stayed, pretty much all day.

The missus went and got me a car bulb from Halfords, for the rear break light that needed replacing, but, get this, she got me a double filament bulb instead of a single filament bulb, I mean, school boy error or what! So, I sent her back down to get it replaced, I mean, honestly, It would’ve been quicker if I’d done the job myself!

I like sitting in my car

Before every Gym sesh I like to take a moment or two in quite contemplation, and who can blame me? When I get to the Gym, I'm usually 10 minutes early, so I turn off the engine, set the seat back, lock the doors and close my eyes. Now, you might think, why not have 10 minutes extra in bed and leave 10 minutes later, arrive at the Gym on time like?...you would think that, but I'm actually doing the opposite, getting up earlier, leaving the house earlier just s'as I can do my private thing in my car. There's something warm and safe, almost Childlike in being in a parked car, rain pitter-pattering off the roof, dark outside, that's very comforting to me. Isn't that silly?...or am I just a lazy sod who cannae be ersed leaving his warm car for the cold harsh Gym?

Friendship

You can't stay in your corner of the forest, waiting for others to come to you; you have to go to them sometimes....so says winnie the poo...and he's quite right of course, so baring this in mind, Saturday we drove up to Northampton to see me mate Doug for the day, in fact it turned out to be only 3 hours or so. Still, it broke up the day and it was good to see him, even if he did watch the footie throughout our stay!
We had to get home early 'cos the missus was off to a PTA run School quiz night, and they say rural life is a baron waste land, tut...while I stayed in and ran through the 5 porn DVD's me mate Doug thrust into my sweaty palms as we were leaving his house earlier that day.
Sunday, strangely I felt tired and weak, but managed to get myself to the boozah for a constitutional, then to Tesco's for some carry-outs, 2 Huge bottles of Kronie, in a bag, attached to the back of the buggy.
We get home and as the missus takes the baby smasher out of his buggy, it tips up, smashing one of the bottles. Well, I stood there frozen to the spot, hoping that the crashing and smashing sound was inside my head, but as the beer ran over my shoes I realised it was a little more serious than that...

Don't worry says the missus, seeing my mortified face, I'll go and get you a replacement...15 minutes later I spy a mini can of Stella in the fridge, ermm...love, where did you go for the beer "replacement"?...Oh, the local shop...right, you didnae go back to Tesco's then Obviously!!! (i say in my head) working out if I could be bothered to go back myself for a proper replacement a: To show her that was wasnae best pleased and b: to get me my proper replacement and not put up with a mini Stella alternative..ah the little things...decided, for a quite life, so go for a sleep and sulk instead. it's for the best.

Monday, she gets her eyes laysered. no problems so far. early days mind.

History teaches us that history teaches us nothing!

Over a year ago now, I had my eyes laysered, this week my left eye has been giving me gip, could it be true that after a year the effects of the operation? On Monday I'll be taking the missus down to Optimax to have hers done, I say to she, look love, mine still hurt, I get floaters that drive me mad, I get blurred vision at times and feel the need to sleep often...if I were you, I'd not go through with it, given your eyesight isn't that bad...but, she's determined to go through with it..

I suppose it all started in 1998....

So, the "wedding weekend" is over and I'm still feeling it's effects on my body. Friday, home from work and I'm on my first G&T of the evening while the missus gets ready. She drives us to St Albans where we park up outside this really rough old boozah, we head in 'cos she wants to change into her battle dress. I order the drinks while she's wolf whistled all the way into andout of the toilets. nice.
Get to reception and Niges mother stumbles into us pished as a fart, bless...Booze and food laid on nicely, while, and I have bring this up, Nige launches into the longest, and I have to say dullest, speech I've ever heard at a wedding.....
Luckily, for me, I knew the lengths and depths Nige can go to, to hold onto his audence when he's in full Nige mode, so I ducked in and out to the bar whenever my pint empties (yes, it went on that long)...
Jerry Springer would've ben proud at the emotional pitch Nige grappled with towards the end, as he sensed his audience attention levels were dropping, as people talked amoung themselves, increasingly, so Nige would send off a salvo of emotionally charged declarations of unbounded love for his new wife....as the audience oooh-ed and arhhh-ed, cooo-ed and applauded this, he'd drop back into his ramble and the audience would drift away from him again.

At one point he lost the plot...where was I? he says aloud, looking through his notes...On page 17! I shout out and once again the crowd perks up with life for the final push towards the end. When it came, we all sighed a huge relief...some struggled with a clap or two, some woke up their partners, others headed off to the toilet or bar to slag off Nige. myself included. His brothers speak was much better though, far superior.
Home for us, via a £45 taxi!!!! (£25 to get there mind, how odd) where my sister was fuming at our lateness, not our fault we cried, it was Niges speech!!

Toms wedding day. It took 2 hours to drive there and 2 getting home, we got slightly lost see...but it was a good night.

me mate Neeeek, on his seventh pint of Stella, me? I stuck to mineral water the entire evening

Toms wife Pippa and Canadia Rich...thinking about it, mebbe I shoulda got a "Tom and Pippa" photo instead of this one...ah well

Nige is getting married. horrah.

I can't believe it, me mate Nige is finally, inevitably? getting married today and I've been close to tears all morning.
He's the last, well, last but one, of us to get hitched and he was always, for me, the last of the gay bachelors. I would look up to him and imagine what my life would've been like had I not got virtually hitched at 24. The travel, the women, the nights out, the career, all a world I'd never know and now a world Nige is leaving behind.

If this is about me in any form or way, and I think it is, in some ways then, how can I not be disappointed? I ask you, I ask Nige, what have I done to deserve this?

NTL - get out of my house!

Finally, I managed to get rid of NTL outya my house and outya my life!
Sunday right, nothing on TV that evening, we knew that but we decided to forego the pleasure of standing with the other scum in our local video emporium, jostling for the latest Jackie Chan DVD or whatever, and order an "On Demand" film from NTL instead.

So, picture us, Sunday night, kids in bed, G&T in hand, relaxing after a hard day with the kids and I click on the "On Demand" button, but what's this? No service available, please call Customer Services, OK, I'll call, Oh, Customer Service is not available over the weekend, please try again Monday!!...Right, fuck this for a service I tell ya.

Monday I'm on the phone alright, Customer Service? yes, please come and take away your box, I've totally had enough of your terrible service!. So, next day, man comes. gone. Smasher comes back from School...where's the TV gone daddy?..oh,...jesus, er...a man came and took the box son, there's no more Nick Junior TV anymore son...(cough)... Q screaming fit...
actually, he took it rather well.

I decided to get Freeview instead, so I bought a box that offers Freeview AND records programs on it's hard disc! amazing, it's da future I tell ya...OK so I'll miss The Simpsons, Star Trek, Nip/Tuck etc but that's the price I'm prepared to take for my principles...and it's the price my family will have to pay too.

Arthur in his school uniform, first day...we all cried

Smasher number one, this summer, riding da rails innit

Me and Fred, knackered, I tell ya!...he fell off evenually, I gave him a little nudge to see if he would, and he did....and he screamed and screamed!! won't do that again in a hurry!

High society - Low down bums

I experienced the underside and upper crust side of society this weekend, Saturday we went to Amersham to a wedding reception. One of the missus's old school mates getting hitched to an ex-public school fellah, bloody nice chap actually...All his mates were chinless wonders, tall, lanky uncoordinated horrah's...barking jokes at each other. Talking about popping outside the marquee for a "snout" ahaha...
bloody nice chaps though, one bloke, telling the missus how lonely he was, and that drink was his only friend, some foppy Keats or Byron wannabe. I told him to fuck off and moon about somewhere else. the cunt.

Let's see, Sunday, the missus decided we're to have no more babies, would mean too much strain on her body she thinks, with me.....I think she means, grunting away on top of her. So, she sorted out baby clothes and other stuff and went down to a "car boot" sale, I think they call it, to flog them all off to the scum of the earth.
I took the smashers down a little later to support her and bring her provisions. The type of people that wander round these places, I tell ya, you wouldn't want them in yir local or walking up your street of an evening. Body shapes I've never seen before, faces I'm sure I have, on crimestoppers...uncomfortable in my new surroundings, I beat a hasty retreat. She made some money though, I'll give her that...

All that was good about me

It hasnae been a great week for me, getting back into the swing of work after last weekend has been harder than I'd imagined. It's been made more trying by the fact that I'm having to cover for someone on holiday and also, suddenly, there's a rush of work on. Today I took my first tentative steps back into the gym after a week long absence, old friends greeted me like a long lost relative, wrapping their arms round me and gently encouraging me to do "one more" length of the pool, then helping me back to the showers and soaping my weary body...Tiredness doesn't come close, it's more a draining, sapping morbidly depressed kinda feeling I have right now. The diet and general keep fit campaign floundering on a wave of apathy...snap out of it Steve! for Christ sake, think of the kids!!...
All that was good about me, me, my own personal hero these last few weeks, shunning booze, exercising and dieting like a method actor days before his first day shooting, now turned to dust, or turning to dust if I don't pick myself up and dust myself off pretty damn sharply....if you like train wrecks, if you're a born rubber necker, if you dare, then check it out

It was boiling on there Sunday....it didn't help Dave fancied a long walk that morning, but the way I see it is, if I hadn't followed, I'd've never seen the railway cuttings, the warehouses, the industrial units on the edge of town...

Neeek, calling me a moaning bastard, and threatening to beat me up if I didnae shut my fucking mouth

Nige, enjoying a "joke" with Dave

Dave, in position, ready to recieve me from behind...see how tense he looks, but it was fine, over in minutes

Dave, Nige, Paul etc outside Dickens pub in Riga

Riga

So, Dave and Nige's stag weekend finnaly came round, and now it's all over, and I'm depresed about it because, for a change, I actually enjoyed this weekend away. Spent far too much, drank far too much but it was worth it, for the most part...

Bank Holiday innit

Bank holiday weekends, feel like I’m going a bit stir crazy actually, luckily, today is my last day at home, after 5 days here, tomorrow I go back to work, and I cannae say I’m all that sorry. Any-hoo, here’s how it panned out like…
Friday, did my bottle of wine allocation in one evening, but woke up Saturday in fine fickle so we all went into town for a wander, trying desperately to stay out of the pubs. The rest of the day passed by peacefully enough.
Sunday went to Brent Pelham’s country show, somewhere in the heart of Hertfordshire and I wished I’d stayed at home; full of Hooray Henry’s and inbred locals. The event was staged at the back of hunting dog kennels for fuck’s sake! And the proceeds went to the Countryside Alliance…not a good combination all in all.Monday, up early for work would you believe, on a bloody bank holiday, then to the local pool for some family swimming, followed by an afternoon nap then some sun bathing in the garden, it could be worse I suppose…

Nige, on his holiday, just about to burp...he sent this to me, or i received it anyway, Saturday night, about 10:30pm via a secure link and I'm thinking, mate! he's sending me some home made porn from his flash new mobile phone, of him and his soon to be wife!...how wrong I was though, how very very wrong

impromptu biscuit eating

I dunno, I’ve wished August away, and good riddance, I think it must’ve rained every day this month. Why am I wishing the month away? Well, this time next week, I’ll be getting ready to head off to Heathrow and from there Riga, Latvia, for me mates’ stag weekend. I’m terribly excited of course, new exotic landscapes, city, people, new food, art galleries, museums…oh, the whole thing! Not that I’ve any money for this adventure, I’m totally broke, as always, but there you go, I is doing this for me mates, they come first in my book.

Right now I’m at home, working, and won’t return to the office till Wednesday, this is great of course, if it wasn’t for the waft of poo I can smell from the smashers nappy I’m being assaulted with as he crawls under my legs and onto the computer table tray, why the missus doesn’t sort this out is anyone’s guess, I suppose I’ll just have to put up wit hit for now.

Also, being at home means two other things, I’ll be tempted to eat and snack more and I’ll not be able to hit the gym! Me mats will be pulling away from me on the GIPS stakes if I don’t show enormous self control and keep away from the biscuit barrel and do some impromptu sit and press-ups instead. Wish me luck, track my progress

Raod show

It's funny how, changing your diet, can effect your mood, your behaviour and the the mood and behaviour of the people around you, people close to you, isn't it? A personal choice that I'm making, is having an impact on my family.

Take Saturday morning for example, there was I, fresh as a daisy from not drinking the night before...Off we head into town, me to buy some sweet potato's the missus forget to buy the day before, the kids to the library for a reading test. Lunchtime and the missus said, let's have a drink in Jacoby's, the trendy bar in the town square.They had like a road show thing going on, giving away free tee-shirts and balloons and playing music, so very nice entertainment, in the sun, as we sipped some beers...2 in fact. The missus then suggested we go home, fair enough say I, but let's go to Tesco first to pick up some wine, Oh no Steve, don't, you're doing so well, don't spoil it....But I was on a mission, and I ended up carrying out a 1.5 litre bottle of white wine...to drink over the next few days I assured the wife...

Well, to cut a long and rather dull story short, I polished off the bottle that evening, had an argument with the missus that night, over, I dunno, control, weakness and so on, sulked all day Sunday, the missus taking the smashers out alone, leaving me to stew in my own juices, cross with myself for being a pratt...and for what? all for trying, and failing, to loose some weight. I duuno, any-hoo, check the results.

Moments in time

I went out with a girl once, years ago, who was in a long term relationship with her boyfriend (this is important to note here) but she liked playing away with me, and who could blame her?...anyway, I'll always remember one morning, about 5:30am I wake up and start on her, and before you could say "fuck me what time is it?" we're at it like a couple of horney stuuuuudents that we were...Afterwards, her panting and covered in a sheen on sweat, me staring out of the window, searching for the cab I ordered for her, she's totally overwhelmed with us doing it at that time of the day, she just couldn't get her head around the fact that she was woken up, still dark outside, for some sex...But I'm like, so what, I'm a man, you're a women, I'm naked, so are you...like, what's not to "get"??

Funny how these things come back to you isn't it?..Last night, I'm awake, 4:00am, listening to the rain lash the road outside and I sneeze the teeniest weeniest of sneezes, hardly making a noise in fact, but the missus, still said "bless you" and I said "thanks"...The missus, clearly as wide awake as I am....Something flashed across my brain, she's a women, naked, I'm a man, also naked but instead of trying on anything sexual, I'm thinking back to that cold student morning, having an epiphany moment with an ex-girlfriend from 16 years ago...

Wickers War - christ! I'm off to bed!

I still haven’t managed to work out how I can tape one programme and watch another, well, not true, I did work it out, but the NTL box broke and it’s replacement has thrown me…Last night, the missus, off to work for a spot of overtime, asked me to tape the gymnastics on BB2, so being the dutiful husband, I set it all up, let it run, and retired upstairs to watch the portable. Terrestrial TV being what it is these days, I soon found myself totally bored, and in no mood for self-pleasuring, so at 9:00pm I set the alarm and went to bed. At least it stopped me eating anything else…check it.

The ripple effect

The weekend started poorly, well, good really in that I managed to stay off the booze on Friday night! by 9:30pm, bored shitless I went to bed, I think it was still light outside. Saturday, up for some overtime work, then into town for some shopping. Mate called, fancy a pint?...weak as I am, I agreed and an hour later I found myself in the garden of a pub. By the time he arrived the missus and I had demolished a bottle of wine and I was well on my way to the land they call drunk. The mate stayed on the shandy, but I ploughed on. Home via Tesco's for a 3 litre box of wine, classy I am. By the time I went to bed, I was well gone, I think we watched a film at some stage, Evelyn with Pierce Brosnan, shite I think. Sunday, hungover. stayed indoors all day, eating and drinking plenty of fluids. groan. I've logged most of my eating on u are wot u eat. check it.

You live with yir Mama?!

No, she lives with ME!...oh, the Simons, we love it in our house I tell ya, the missus goes out to work and me and the boys settle down to watch our favourite show, reciting the words together, as we've watched all the episodes dozens of times, well, all the ones bloody Sky One broadcast over and over.

Last night, as I'm tucking the elder smash into bed, I'm saying.."You live with yir Mama?!"...and he says,..."No!...she lives with Me!"...he then pauses and says, "we should stop saying that together now daddy", and I'm like, oh, why?...and he says, "'cos, you know what you say about milking the joke?" ...ah yes...out of the mouths of babes eh? my son now finds me boring, or my feeble attempts of humour and bonding boring...not to worry though, there's plenty more Simons quotes left to inflict on him, then I can move onto Fawlty Towers, Python, Black Adder...

A girlfriend I had once said that I hadn't really got a sense of humour, I just thought I did because I quoted TV a lot...a little unfair that I thought at the time, this from the same girlfriend who, when I asked her if she'd consider going back to her ex if he ever came back into her life, she said, yes! in a heartbeat!!...but I think I'm digressing...or regressing....or...fuckit we are the knights that say "Ni"..a-ha!!...ahahahaha.....oh

U are wot U eat

I've decided, inspired by the channel 4 program u are what u eat, to catalogue everything I'm eating and drinking! Why you might ask? Why Steve, when you've no need to like...well, yesterday this fat cow and her husband laid everything they've eaten that week, and I was shocked and appealed! No wonder, I said to the missus, they is so fat, hmmm, says she, I bet we eat that much too, if it was all laid out like!...

Stupid bitch, I thought, but it got me thinking. Here am I with my bird like appetite, gym everyday, and unable to shift a pound, an ounce even!...mebbe, just mebbe there's something to this "diet" lark thing...Speaking to me mate about it, we decided to list everything we eat, but because that's gonna be so boring, we decided to create a blog for ourselves principally...anyone vaguely interested in what I shove done my throat...steady ladies...and go here

Yeah, like...WhatEVER!!

After all the palaver, all the arranging, begging and scheming we finally had our night out. I walked from Kentish Town, arrived very hot and sweaty, my tee-shirt ingrained with dried sweat, nice...but showed how committed I was to this project, right?...5 people showed up, one left after first pint, a BBQ he got invited to and accepted AFTER confirming he'd spend the evening with us, whatever.
Then another left, too tired. whatever.
The a third left, wife wanted him home early. whatever.
Had 2 txt messages while there, can't make it, bla bla bla crap....crap, excuses...whatever.

I tell ya, why do I bother? seriously, What's the point? Well, it's the last time I do, I know that much...
So, the 3 remaining headed off to a dodgy strip bar, totally crap, expensive, smokey and grim. I left 3 hours later.

Saturday, went to see old college mate, who now lives in Salisbury, very nice time I had too, lovely 5 bed house, 2 garages...where did I go wrong?...Sunday, drove home after wander round the cathedral

Star date - 06/08/2004

Tonight I go drinking!...It feels like it's been a real journey getting here this time. Usually it's a right pain getting everyone together, but this time it's been a nightmare...Let me explain...

So, mostly this year we've been meeting and drinking in Holborn, it's sort of central for most people and there's plenty of pubs; this time I decided we'd all meet up in "The Enterprise"...Now, excuuuuse me for taking advantage of the pubs name to generate a bit of fun in sending out invitations, but the response I got was, at best muted and at worse, down right hostile! Examples of some of the better replies, the ones who kept it real, kept in character damnit!..

From me, the Original email:

Everyone, Captain on the Bridge! Set your faces to stun! because it's about
time to tried this again, Friday 6th Aug at The Enterprise in Holborn.5:30pm
onwards...

Response:

To - boldly - get a life Steve, but not as we know it....

And:

Beam me up, Captain, and I'll cling-on to the least Vulcan looking
appendages (ears, I mean)! C u there

And:

Yeah, beam me up! I'm setting my phaser to 'fun'... erm... it's a night out
jim, but not as we know it... ummm... errrr.....now my brain hurts.

Then, oh no! not only do I have to mail the core members to arrange a suitable date, I then have to go away and sort a babysitter. Usually the in-laws do it, or my sister, or if needs be, the wife'll take a holiday or a sickie, but not this time, no. This time, NO ONE would cancel their holidays for me, or break an engagement, or go "sick" bastards! So, with a weary heart, I sent out the following:

Captains log - Star date 26/07/2004 - update
Following a probe sent out to ascertain availability of friendly babysitters to guard hostile babies on Star date 06/08/2004. I have to tell you now, that the data received back is not good news. The Captain must, reluctantly, stay onboard the ship and let the away team venture down onto the planets surface without him. I will be in communication range throughout the evening. Good luck everyone!
Captain Steve "T" D'Arcy

And then the rot seemed to set in, without their Captain, all seemed lost:

Captain D'Arcy. Lieutenant Cass here. Will also have to abandon mission due to unforeseen activity in Quadrant 5 of the Derbyshire Galaxy. Needed to entertain restless natives.

And

I can't hold her! She's breaking up, she's breaking up...

Duh-nur-nur-nur, dur nurnur nurnur nurnurnurnurnuuuur. Gotta go camping that weekend I'm afraid chaps. My one, last, desperate chance of some kind of poxy holiday this year.

And:

Hi Captain

Apologies for this late communication, have only just left the "Barbados" capsule and am now trapped in the "38th Wedding Anniversary" capsule which has been programmed to overshoot the Holborn area and land in Worcester Park on Friday, 6th August 2004.

Unfortunately, I do not have the appropriate clearance to override the programme, so will sadly have to miss this important meeting. Hope to change capsules for next time.

And:

Hey! That reminds me. How many ears does Captain Kirk have? Three! A left ear, a right ear and a Final Front'ear'!...Oh yeah, and Scotty the Engine'ear'.
That'll be four then....Sorry i can't make it.

But, Oh joy of Joys!! the brother-in-law came through for me and agreed to babysit!...so, finally, I sent this:

Now here this! Attention all decks!...please disregard previous communication!! The captain WILL be beaming down to the planet's surface after all, REPEAT The captain WILL be beaming down to the planet's surface after all.
Stand down red alert.
Captain Steve "Luc" D'Arcy

....yeah, so...that's all right then...see you all in there tonight...Captain Out.

Chessington, chessington, chessington Zoo..

Yeah, Monday we went to chessington zoo, that's right...nice day, bloody expensive, a long way to get to, but hey! it's for the kids...and at the weekend, we had, I think, our very first BBQ of the year...check it

Raw Chicken

There are some things in the universe I find very reassuring, I’m sure most do, the way day follows night; winter follows autumn; gay men having style and so on. One thing, in my life, that’s a guarantee, and I’m talking about a cast iron, 100% guarantee here, is that when I’m doing the washing up, which is every day, following a dinner involving chicken, you can bet your life, my missus will, at some stage, shout over to me..
”make sure you give everything a GOOD scrub, IT’S HAD RAW CHICKEN on it!”

Now some people might find this incredibly irritating, some people might tighten their grip on their washing-up cloth and grind their teeth but not me, no…I find this reassuring, all’s well in my universe…all’s well

scream

I’ve been on at the missus to stop buying my wine when she does her weekly shop on Fridays. Lately I’ve been necking a bottle, a bottle and a half AND a couple of glasses of G&T for no good reason on a Friday night, alone, other than the fact that, deep down, I’m probably depressed. So anyway, like a good wife, she obeys me. Yesterday afternoon I get home from work, soaked in sweat from the driving, gasping for a beer. So I take the family out for a couple of pints ( I is nothing, if not a good family man ). Thing was, I then had the taste, so I was eyeing up the wife white wine in the fridge when we all got home….The last thing she said to me, as she went out the door that evening, to start her evening shift, was, if you MUST, then you can drink my wine….

The last thing I remember last night was lying on my new sofa, in my underwear, screaming at Big Brother; At some point I must’ve taken myself off to bed, but I don’t remember…or I’m choosing not to.

Sofa so good

Not a bad weekend, nightmare traffic friday evening, got home gasping for a pint, so took family for a beer in the sun. Watched "The Swimming Pool" on DVD later, was ok, nowt special though.

Saturday I took the missus up to Finchley road to Optimax for her eye consultation. It seems she's perfect for either procedure and has opted for the layser treatment (£1,000) instead of the cheaper, more painfull procedure, Epi-Lasek. Nice one, I said, don't worry about the cost then love, let me worry about that....you must have whichever you feel comfortable with....sheeesh!...Watched The Last Samuri that night, was ok.

Sunday, drove to Harrow to pick me dad up, then over to Markyate to pick me sister up, then all back to Ware for a piss-me-up to celebrate me dad's birthday. Nice day, mini-pub crawl before the missus drove dad and sister home in the evening. me, early night....hmmm

Oh yeah, the pic's of me sofa's then...here's one...and here's the other, with some rug and a smasher

A life without passion is wasted. It is gray and sad and empty

...and cheap, it'll be cheap too. My sofa's finally came yesterday, boy! when they say it might take 8-12 weeks, they really mean it don't they? All's well now though, they fit perfectly, they don't dominate the room, Christ, I must watch too many D.I.Y and design shows, it was really and truly worrying me the sofa's would dominate, but my fears were allayed when I saw how great they looked. (pictures t follow)

Thing was, the missus kept back the manky old green cushions from the old sofa's and had "scattered" them on my new sofa's, to tie in the sofa's into the rest of the room, (green curtains and wall paper below the dado rail) but I wasn't gonna fork out £2,500 on sofa's and ruin the look with shite green cushions, so I binned them when she went to work that evening. I wouldn't mind, but we've bought some lovely big fluffy cream cushions FOR the new sofa's, it's not as if we NEED any more...talk about over compensating, talk about dominating a sofa...with too many cushions like...

And you know what?..I'm bored of them now, well, not bored, but not only do I have buyers remorse, I also have, bizarrely, an urgent need to upgrade the rest of the room to do the sofa's justice!...and I have big plans too, a new rug, new cabinet to house the various boxes we now need to watch TV, and...er...a new wall mounted plasma television, well, it'll take up less room, we can move the sofa's to a better position, it'll cover an empty wall we've been staring at for 3 years. and...oh...Christ, I think a chemical in me noggin is outya whack, I need a drink.

Suited and Booted

Someone sent me a picture of "the" wedding the other day, take a look, this is of me and me great mate Neeeeeek just arriving, from the pub, at the pre-wedding ceremony photo shoot. Notice me, all suited up compared to me mate Neeeeeek, in casual attire...something he was kicking himself about for the rest of the day. For me, it's simple, wedding = suit. Always.

Oooo d’you fink you are, David Bailey?

So, for the missus birthday, she asked her family for money and vouchers to go towards a new digital camera and the money and vouchers duly arrived; Boots vouchers. Now, the other day, she’s on Boot’s website looking at camera’s, none of which she fancies (of course), not enough pixels or summat, so she’s surfing around until she comes to eBay. Two things worried me immediately here:

a) eBay don’t take Boot’s vouchers – Simple says the missus, I’ll use up the vouchers, over the course of a year or two, buying all our toothpaste and hair care products from Boots…Hmmm and I’ll buy the camera on eBay on Credit Card instead!!
b) She knows fuck all about eBay and I’m worried she’s gonna fuck up

Sure enough, having bid for a camera she finds on eBay, and having won the bid, she decides she doesn’t want it afterall, not enough pixels…or summat…so mails the German company and tells them, she’s oh, changed her mind!…A-Ha!! Says the German, sorry, no-can-do as you have entered a legally binding agreement with us and you must pay!…ve have vays ov making you pay…

So, in a few days we’ll take delivery of an £85 camera (she bid for the thing for £70, but once P&P were added, etc…groan) she doesn’t want and we can’t afford, sorry, I can’t afford.

Say cheese!! Come on, big smile!!!

Drinking with Nige

Got a life saving call Saturday afternoon from Nige, me mate, asking if I fancied a beer in St Albans...Life saving because I was hassling the missus to go to IKEA and buy stuff we don't really need because I was so totally bored...after a quick call to the local taxi firm, confirming it'll cost close to £30 to get me there, the missus graciously offered me a lift over there instead, saying she'd call me in 3-4 hours to arrange picking me up.
 
Nige had a couple of his mates over, both ex-Uni mates, one now living in Ireland and all was going swimmingly, until the missus called, I'm getting the kids into the car, we're coming to get you!! Noooo I'm enjoying myself, I'll stay here overnight, come get me tomorrow...Funnily enough, not long after that call, I realised that I actually wanted to be at home, I'd had enough to drink and the conversation was drying up and an hour later I was considering the taxi home option...but I soldiered on instead...and so the afternoon, turned and whirled into the evening, that then spiralled into the nighttime to eventually plummet headlong into the early morning. Yes. I got pissed and the next day the missus duly arrived to scoop me up and take me home.
 
 

Fresh Start

Another day, another leaving do...since I've been here, 6 people have handed in their notice! It's partly to do with the take-over, partly to do with a change in the product focus but mostly it's to do with natural wastage, people fed-up with their jobs, wanting a change and good luck to them I say...and good riddance too. Nothing like a fresh start eh?

Took a drastic step yesterday and shaved all my hair off!...Before I went to Greece I was trailing some Grecian, totally fed-up with being grey haired, why not I'm thinking, fuck it...and all was going well, no change in the hair colour, but I was DOING something about it, then, the night before we all went on holiday, I applied some Indian Amla Oil to the hair, as recommended by numerous internet sites, and guess what?...Next morning, my hair was brown...ish...The problem was that the missus hated it, said I looked like I was a 50-a-day smoker, with grey/brown hair...and she was right; Also, I was aware people were talking to the top of my head when they spoke to me...so, anyway, all off, new start...The missus still not seen it, she back from work last night, me in bed, me up this AM, she still asleep...ah well, she see tonight, give she a nice surprise!
 
All me mates are away in Croatia for the next 2-3 weeks, taking Ryan Air to Italy and getting the train down then sorting out a hotel when they get there, nice, wish I was with them...

Fish and Chips

Nothing’s more guaranteed to get the missus in the mood for a bit of the old Nebuchadnezzar grazzin’ than chidder-chatn’ about having that third baby! I dunno what it is, but last night, in the restaurant and bar afterwards we’re onto the topic of babies, again, and by the time we reach home and boot the in-laws out the door, she’s on me like a bitch on heat! Luckily for me, earlier, I opted out of the fish “special” in the Thai restaurant and went for the chicken curry instead. *(think I’ll leave that there as it goes,…yes.)

So, any-hoo the missus celebrated her 37th birthday yesterday, from me she got some flowers and a silver necklace + the Thai meal + I’m paying for her Laser eye operation next month and from her parents and brother money for a new digital camera she’s after, not in itself very interesting, but worth noting because we always seem to forget what we get each other for birthdays an Christmas, so there, I’ve recorded it for posterity or summat.
Working from home today, lovely day out…think I’ll….just….soooo sunny…bye

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years

As I give thought to the matter, I find four causes for the apparent misery of old age: first, it withdraws us from active accomplishments; second, it renders the body less powerful; third, it deprives us of almost all forms of enjoyment; fourth, it stands not far from death.

Too true n'all, spent the entire weekend moving my father into an OAP warden controlled one bedroom flat. His possessions amounted to a photo album, some clothes and his tools, not much to show for his 60 odd years. Still, he seems happy enough with his lot in life, still some moaning of course, but that's him, luckily, it's not a hereditary thing, happy as Larry I am most of the time. yes. He's still got some bits and bobs to sort out, his pension direct into his bank account...Bank account? says me dad, oh Christ...so now we gotta sort one of those out for him too, god knows how he's lived so long, he's like a child in many ways, the world caught up with him in the 1960's and he's never been able to keep up since..

Some good news, our leather sofa's are finally ready to be delivered!! yippee!!...now we're wondering if they'll go thru our narrow door, it's a serious issue...and now no fecker wants our old sofa, at one stage we had two interested parties...gonna have to move it into the dining room for now, ah well, my problem.

Telly Savalas

The next day we picked up our wired money from a tour Rep's office in Zante Town, and we took the smashers to Water Village World, or summat...The rest of the holiday passed by without further incident, two boat trips, one to an Island off our resort, another to see some "blue" caves, younger smasher wanting to throw himself overboard at every opportunity, and I was sorely tempted to let him at times I tell ya!..We drove right around the Island one day, picked up some Olive Oil and Honey from some place in the mountains, all very usual tourist stuff.

Our hotel throughout seemed populated almost entirely with Jocks or Geordies, all bloated, red, shaven headed and tattooed up to the hilt....and that's just the women!...sorry, but I'm sitting there thinking, these bloody people, they all look like they've come straight from an Ocean Finance central casting advert; None of them looked like they've done an honest days work in their miserable lives, and yet, here they are in my pool.......Next year, staying at home....upmarket Centre Parcs mebbe

Homer

Next day we go and ask the holiday Rep for her recommendation of a beach we could go to, no way we wanna end up on another Greek populated beach…she looks at us and classifies us a “a Family”, if I’d’ve been with a group of lads, she’d’ve classified us as “a group of lads” or if I’d been on my own, as “a pervert” and have recommended different beaches for each classification, but for us, you’ve guest it, she sends us to a “family” beach across the Island!

Oh Christ, not again, day two and I’m on another clothed beach….But I’m too depressed about losing my wallet to worry too much, it’s a beach I’m thinking, the holiday’s for “the kids” just relax and let them enjoy themselves and stop thinking about yourself for one fucking minute!!…

It’s no good though, I’m up and wandering down the beach, looking for…er….ice cream, or a toilet for a child I’m dragging with me for effect, "but daddy, I dunt wanna go to the toilet"!…Shaddap son, daddy’s looking for summat…"the toilet daddy"?…whoa?…oh, er…sure sure..

I’m rewarded with a lovely lady, frolicking in the sea, playing, of all things, topless tennis, with her boyfriend….But he’s onto me immediately, not convinced for one moment with my cover of “a young boy, in need of an ice cream/wee” and he’s making it really difficult for me to stand and watch, so we walk on…HANG ON!! What’s this in the distance?…2 nakid, yes, naked women sunbathing, there son!! Over there, we can go to the toilet AND get ice cream over there!!!! Oh joy of joys, wait!! They’re getting up, going in for a dip…Noooo!!! Quick son, drag…drag.. too late, they’re swimming now, opportunity lost…bastards!

The rest of the day, the odd one or two topless exposures, and coming back to the hotel later, some nice views around the hotel pool….and I begin to relax a little. That night, I turn to the wife, when the smashers are fast asleep, dreaming, no doubt, turtles and the seaside, and being dragged through the sea by some fat hairy monster, and say, so…how about some then?…Oh sorry love, I is having my period…Christ, this holiday!!

Zorba

Our wonderful Greek Summer Holiday turns to dust as, mid-afternoon on our first whole day, I loose my wallet! All my cards, £200+ and driving license ends up in some thieving Greek bastards paws!…It happened like this…

So, we’d hired this car see, and the missus and I were taking it in turns mastering the car’s controls, driving on the wrong side of the road, map reading etc, basically going no-where in particular until, exhausted with trying to keep the thing and us out of two meter deep open ditches on either side of the road, and out of the way of bastard Greek coach drivers way, we end up on this very quiet beach. The only people to be seen are a locals…
Ahrrrrr isn’t it lovely, says the missus, sooo quiet and peaceful etc, as she unloads the car of kids and baggage and tramps off to find somewhere to plonk herself for the rest of the day!...

Me, sulking behind her, loaded down with beach towels, buckets, water, spades, inflatables….moaning. Look, if I wanted to see a loada Greeks, I’d’ve gone to North London, right?. No, what I wanted to see were Swedes, Germans, Dutch…specifically, Swedish women, German Ladies, Dutch source, all in various stages of undress of course. Everyone knows Greek women dunt put out, right?…Not a topless bird on the whole beach to be seen, I knew this because I wandered up and down it, in the pre-text of looking for some ice cream or summat.

Bored with my moaning, we de-camped after lunch and set off again, this time into Zante’s main town. After wandering around for a bit, we settle for 3 cokes in a bar, left shortly after, wandered back to the car, drive off, get lost, stop and ask for directions, discover wallet gone, go back to bar, no we’ve not seen a wallet, what is this “wallet” please, yeah right, you thieving bastard, and the fist start flying! But there’s too many of them, it was like something out of The Matrix 2, they all looked the same to me, as I was whizzing round throwing hooks and kicks in every direction…satisfied I’d knocked some basic English into them, I scarpered and headed back to our resort to go through the painfulness of calling the card companies and cancelling my cards, THEN, calling the in-laws and getting them to wire some cash over to us…to be continued

Beware of Greeks...

In retrospect then, taking a 15 month old baby to Zante wasn't a good idea..For my benefit then, a few notes on the holiday, help me remember.
Sunday, 2:00am we're out of bed and driving to the BAA parking site outside Bishops Stortford football club. We transfer to Stansted only to realise we've left some baggage in the car! Doh!...so the missus goes back to fetch it...plenty of time, flight delayed anyway...Once we're in the air baby smasher goes nuts! throwing himself at everything, screaming his head off!!! ....bloody feckless parents, bringing a baby to Greece at his age, Sheeeesh, I ask you!..10 mins before landing and he's worn himself out, and is fast asleep. nice one. Airport, nightmare, teeny weenie thing heaving with Brits, entering and leaving the airport, all mingling together, lily white faces mixing with red and brown faces. Coach to our hotel/Apartment (Arkadianos) lovely quiet part of the Island, (Agios Sostis)...we're in like a flash, ready to begin our wonderful Greek Summer Holiday!!!

We wuz Robbed!!!

Robbed, I tells ye...Ah well, of all the pre-match predictions, no one, not one soul said "...you know what, knowing England and given it's an international tournament and considering it's a crucial stage, I predict it'll go to penalties.And we'll loose....Just like we always do..."

Beckham and Henman should train together, Henman'll show Becks how to hit the Net and Becks can show Henman how to avoid it!...

Off to Zante tomorrow, mebbe the sun and sea...notice I've not said, sex, will help...mebbe

Period stains

So, I went to the wedding yesterday, great day seeing the happy couple tie the knot, then down the boozah by the river for champers and Kroni! Dave did his mates proud, digging deep for the boys! One of the guests there, some scouse nurse had a period groin stain on her strides, very embarrassed she was, especially so when I kept mentioning it to her, well, I had to innit?…Group photo of her and her mates, me taking the picture shouting for her to remove the plant she had placed in front of her, “…I cannae see the stain love, move the plant will ya!…”
Groping my way thru the evening, lusting after anything in a skirt, or trousers for that matter, but I do it in a lovable rogue sorta way, everyone loves me and thinks I’m great, so that’s ok then…non-threatening, is just Steve acting the pratt

Yes, I was very very drunk by the end of play.

Watched the match of course, then got train to…er…well, Highbury I think, no..wait…yes! then a bus, then a cab home….Keeeeer-ching!! I say to the cabbie, s’up to you mate, but I wanna go to Hertford…he say, hop in!! and £60 later I is home. This morning, slightly jaded.

Versus

Watched Versus last night, some Japanese horror/action film, my god, what total crap! I mean, for fucks sake, the reviews! I'm thinking, might be fun, but over-acting-no-plot-rip-off bullshit a film it does not make. Mind you, the lead actor's rather sexy, interestingly he's Asian/Euro looking, in the same way they used to Animate "Battle of the Planets" to make them all look wide eyed European/American...Tried to stay up for Big Brother, after 2 years giving it a wide birth, I've actually got into this one, wonder why?...mebbe it's because the birds in it keep getting their kit off?...nah.

I get home last night and the missus has booked her Optimax appointment!...I tell her, dunt do it! it's dangerous!!..you may go blind, dunt expect me to look after you if you do, I'm not carrying yir white stick etc...all the shit she said to me in other words last year.

You stay now

Had a wicked Stag do, puking, shitting, arguing, falling asleep on the train home!…no, wait, all those things correct, but for all the wrong reasons…

I get to the rendezvous early and sink a pint, people start arriving and I’m on another, but I’m aware that I’m not actually finishing them, I try a glass of wine, but that’s worse, my stomach feels bloated, bile is rising in my throat, I badly feel I need a dump but am all blocked up, yes, I’m flagging so I try a coke, but no good, I'm on the edge of everyones conversation, not in the middle of any, people are moving away from me....time to bite the bullet and tell Dave that I’m gonna have to bail out and leave them to their steak meal…then all hell breaks loose:

Noooo!!!…you gotta stay Steeeeeve, You can’t leave!!!
…But Dave mate, I feel awful, lemme go home, I cannae drink owt, cannae eat owt and cannae talk to anyone I feel so bad…
No Steve, you stay now…

Christ, in the end I leave, feeling terrible of course that I’m bailing but glad cause anymore and I’ve thrown up…Now, of course I’m in the dog house, but whatever I had, I still have, off work today, diarrhoea rampant…one good thing, if it stays I’ll loose some weight, so there’s summat to look forward to.
Also, Saturday, missus mums “summer/xmas garden party” fuck knows, stayed 2 hours, bored. Left. Sunday, footie at home, no beers!!!…we lost.

Claire and I are deeply in luff

Fridays round here are like the Maria Celeste I tell ya, just me in so far, mind you, it's still only 7:30am...Just been to the Gym, still not missed a day yet, 5Km on the bike, some weights, sit ups and 6 lengths of the pool, it's gotta be working...surely. Tonight will be booze free as I'm up early for a bit of overtime, then off up the road to the missus mothers summer party for a couple of hours, then off into town to me mates "stag-steak-do" few pints by the river in the very pub he and his future wife fell head-over-fucking-heels-in-luff....it's all gonna be him..."oh, this is the very seat me and Claire fell in luff..." and "....and then I ordered some nuts and a G&T for her, while we gazed into each others eyes..." bloody hell, makes me sick just thinking about it!...Might bail out if he gets too sissy. Sunday, more overtime and footie I suppose, dig me England tee-shirt out, stick a cross of St George flag in me bedroom window box. nice. classy.