Saturday 21st June 2014

Thought I’d pop in to say hello, and not before time I hear you snarl.

I’d like to thank those fans that sent birthday greetings to this absentee houseboy. It was sweet of you, so mucho grassy arse! Thanks also to everyone who has emailed of late.

June thus far:

Stuff in the garden is insistent on growing, so life pretty much revolves around mowing, mulching, trimming, strimming, weeding, watering and waging war against the armies of slugs and snails that seem intent on demolishing everything I’ve planted. Shane’s plot to get me gardening ‘help’ has amounted to nowt, mainly due to blocking tactics on my part. I don’t want help, it’s my job and I like it. Shane is now making noises about placing an ad for part time help in the local freebie paper. We’ll see about that! I’m not having some stranger interfering with my grass thank you very much.

As of the end of May we have new neighbours. I haven’t seen much of them so have little to report, other than that they have covered their wheelie bin with wallpaper. I saw it on rubbish collection day. Aside from the bizarreness of wallpapering a wheelie bin in the first place, the pattern of large mauve and black flowers is hideous. For a moment I did consider wallpapering our wheelie bin in case I was missing out on some essential new fashion trend, but reason, and Shane, prevailed. He hinted that should I decorate our bin he’d decorate my silly arse with large red hand prints. He’s never been a slavish devotee of fashion trends. Dick suggested that the wallpapering of the bin was less about fashion and more about deterring would be thieves from pinching it. He might have a point.

My birthday was nice enough, though I was disappointed when work commitments forced Shane to drop out of accompanying Dick and me on a mini break to Barcelona. I’d been looking forward to spending my birthday with both of them. Barcelona wasn’t quite how I’d imagined it would be. It’s a massive city. I don't know why, but I’d pictured something smaller. Dick and I had a small contretemps outside the awesome Cathedral of the Holy Cross when some random old bloke snarled something in Spanish and followed it up by gobbing on the ground at our feet, and all because Dick and I were holding hands. Dick said to ignore him, but I was livid and gave the old git a two-fingered salute and a mouthful of English ire. Dick was cross. He jettisoned the rest of the day’s sightseeing plans and took me back to our hotel room where he made known his disapproval of my ‘unseemly’ reaction. Words were had and a firm spanking delivered. He said only a fool risks trouble in a foreign land. We made up and enjoyed the rest of the break.

There was a fair bit of wanking going on in the quasi mansion last Thursday, and not how you might think. I’m talking the World Cup here and England’s embarrassing performance against Uruguay. The phrases ‘come on you wankers’ and ‘useless wankers’ were in liberal use. One more pointless match to play and then it’s the bus home from Brazil for the England team. Bloody wankers. At least our performance wasn’t quite as bad as World Cup defenders Spain. Ha-ha. I hope the old git who spat at us was a supporter and had a few quid bet on them to win again. Mean? Me? Never.

We’re going over to Leo’s for dinner this evening. He’s having a barbecue in honour of the solstice. I hate to say it, but after a fine day it looks to be clouding over. Let’s hope the meat fest doesn’t get rained off. There's nothing worse than soggy sausages.

I’m still a bit conflicted about what to do regarding the story of Christmas at Leo’s. Watch this space.

Happy Summer Solstice, folks! Make the most of what’s left of the long days, because they’re on the way out after today, he said cheerily.

I'm off to make myself beautiful. Ciao for now.

July 2014


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