I'm back on bloody Facebook, I got fed up with it a few months ago and deactivated but the bug's got me again. I'm turning down requests to throw sheep and plant flowers in people's gardens, I can't be having with that. Infact, I wish they'd invent a Facebook Lite for people like me who just want to 'wash and go' The Wife still views it with disdain and she's right to.
One thing I view with disdain is Eastenders. The language is terrible, last night I heard said "she's a cow", "bloody door" and a woman was slapped in the face. This was all before 8.30pm. I ask you. The BBC is sailing on a sea of filth and should hang its head in shame. I thank the lord that I was never exposed to the programme as a child, what sort of adults will be produced if they're allowed to watch it before bedtime? The channel should be renamed ASBO 1 not BBC 1!

To Diane and Mick's on Saturday night for an amazing meal with John, Teresa, Joe and Lisa. I don't know if you are aware but there is a slight age difference between the Wife and I, not a huge one, nothing disturbing, anyway, as a consequence I was the youngest one at the table but my word you wouldn't have known it. They don't half know how to knock it back, I'm a bit of a party animal myself but I'm a mere hamster compared to them. We didn't get home until 3! If it wasn't for the clocks going back it would have been later!
We had a fantastic time and both the wife and I were very moved with the trouble they had gone to....I'm welling up now....

Chunky Munky

The Wife and I are to join the gym. As my ship of life sails toward the end of summer I can already smell the autumn leaves and feel my ever increasing waistline, so there's nothing for it but the rowing machine.
I've been looking at middle aged women recently to see how some have let themselves go, it's an easy bank to fall down and a hard one to scramble back from. I fear the bingo wing, I want a flat pack stomach, tennis elbow and athletes foot!
We're off to sign on the dotted line tonight and then get induced, it's an expensive old business, not only have we to pay for membership there's the clothing to buy, I need a sports bra, swimming costume, trainers and P.E Knickers - I'll be up all night sewing my name into them all!

Took the bus this morning to work, the driver was eastern european which seems to be the norm these days only this one looked and sounded just like Count Von Count from Sesame Street, it was a little sinister.
Being driven around town by a Vampire during daylight hours is so so but I should imagine for those travelling on the night bus it must be a little disarming, especially when those doors hiss shut.
Oh well I got from A to B without fuss so, as the Chinese have cornered the fish and chip market, the Transylvanians can have the buses.

Forever England

The Wife and I are home now but God knows how. Our brief sojourn in Paris was marred by striking communist Metro drivers which threw a veritable spanner in the works. You can see why they didn't get the Olympics.
Getting to the airport on Friday - a journey which should have taken at the most sixty minutes - took us four hours. They were laying on a bus service to Charles De Gaulle airport from the centre of the city which as you can imagine was heavily subscribed. Numerous nationalities queued around the block and my God the stereotypes came through. As Noel Coward once said "Why do the wrong people travel, travel, travel and the right people stay at home?" Why is it so hard for foreigners to grasp the concept that a queue has a beginning at one end and an ending at the other? We eventually got on and stood up front with the driver. To be honest it all had a sense of evacuation about it and one couldn't help feeling a bit World War 2, One doesn't want to spell it out but it did all have a smack of Anne Frank about it.

This is the Mrs and I post civil partnership ceremony feeling rather pleased with ourselves! We were both very overwhelmed by the whole occasion and the Mrs got quite choked up during the ceremony - and who wouldn't at the prospect of marrying me! - but I too was rather moved and felt my bottom lip quiver which was a sensation that I hadn't felt since my favourite racing pigeon failed to return from Newport Pagnell.
Mr Drew and Mr Clive were sensational best men who pulled out all the stops for us. When we arrived at the registry office we found them car boot up dispensing gin and tonics which were very welcome indeed. I don't think I could have got through it without a slug of Bombay coursing through my system. They also took the official photos throughout the day and night which, after several bottles of champagne, will possibly require a delicate airbrush. They are auctioning them off to the highest bidder which is why we have just got this one at the moment. You'll have to wait until the next edition of Okey Dokey magazine or Woodturners Monthly depending how they get on.
We knocked it back all day and, when Mark and Tim joined us in the evening, we knocked it back all night and I was pleased as punch. I finished the night walking barefoot through Eton - how many girls can say that? Today my toes look like the Somme so I wont be mincing down the Champs-Élysées with a smile on my face tomorrow. I have in my head though some lovely memories which I shall treasure forever and enormous gratitude to Mr Clive, Mr Drew, Mark and Tim and ofcourse the Mrs for making yesterday so special.
Now it's off to Paris for a week with the French who we've just beaten at Rugby......wish me luck.

Getting married tomorrow, the Ladyfriend is going to make me an honest woman so no more porky pies and loose women, oooerr. We're going off to Paris for our honeymoon, I'm very excited, we're going to go on the Amelie tour and see places from the film. Apparently the Café des deux Moulins serves a creme brulee called "Amelie" I was thinking about this and wondering if the Ritz hotel have named a pudding after Lady Di - perhaps an apple turnover. Anyhow, as from tomorrow the "Ladyfriend" will become the "Mrs" all good willing and if the devil doesn't have his way!

Whoops. Invited a few friends for a candle-lit supper at my mother's house on Saturday night whilst we are looking after the place. How was I to know they'd put it on MySpace? I think we picked up the last empty bottle of beer at 9.45pm last night. Shocking behaviour for the middle aged, I saw things on saturday night that would have made my hair curl if I had not recently had it cut into a fashionable bob.
I am busy now trying to replace the broken furniture on ebay, mum gets back on Thursday, hope she's in a good mood.

The Ladyfriend and I have been house sitting whilst my mum suns herself in Cyprus, this is the third year that we have done it and I always enjoy riffling through her cupboards and using her lotions and potions, it does a girl good to get her dose of Sodium laureth sulfate from other sources once in a while.
It means that I use the car to get to work, I can not stand morning radio dj's (apart from Terry Wogan ofcourse who is wonderful) so I made myself a tape of Abba hits to play. Trouble is the tape player in the car is a bit odd and for some reason the background of a song comes to the fore, so instead of the crisp voices of Anna and Frida I get Bjorn and Benny singing "sup-pa-pa troup-pa-pa" I don't mind so much, I turn it up loud and sing like a banshee.
I'm not keen on the route to work though as I have a few roundabouts to traverse and a 12% hill to descend. The hill makes my ears go funny and leaves me a bit mutton for a few hours in the morning.