Friday Thoughts 2: The Return

My head doesn’t hurt as such but it has more made itself very clear exactly how heavy it is, and exactly how tired I am due to last night’s consumption of booze with Craine and Luurtsema. As penance for a lovely evening of wine, beer, whisky, nachos and some cakes that were better than expectation, my head has also decided to entirely forget whatever it was that Layla said to me as she left for work this morning and whatever else I need to do today. To be fair, I understand it needs a day off too. Sometimes I put it through all sorts of stress, such as checking emails while watching This Morning and listening out to see if the kettle’s boiled, and after all that I expect it to come up with a hilarious facebook status or tweet, not giving it two minutes for a breather. So maybe its just fair that today is my brain’s day off. My only worry is if it completely shuts down, then I’m not sure how I’ll do anything else for the rest of the day, bar drool a bit and sit very still. I suppose this isn’t too different from how I spend most days so I shouldn’t be concerned. I might wear a bib just incase.

In an attempt for brain relief, here’s some quick thoughts for todays blog:

– Tom taught me a new game last night called ‘This Is Your Wife’. It involves having one newspaper, and the ability to sing ‘This Is Your Wife’ in the same way the music for This Is Your Life went. If you only have one of those two things, turn away now as the game will hindered somewhat. To play, one person must say a page number, while the other person turns to that page, points to the first picture on it and sings ‘This Is Your Wife.’ After both players have had their spouses confirmed, it then moves to ‘This Is Your Child’. It doesn’t rhyme as well, but the sentiment is the same. We did not get further than this but I assume that ‘This Is Your Mum’ is next. Sadly my wife is now Michael Buble. I don’t think Layla will be too pleased about this, although he is rather wealthy so I feel I’ve done ok. Tom’s wife is some old lady. She is worse looking than Buble, but she is a) a woman and b) probably going to die soon, so he’s done ok.

– I like pubs with fire in. Last night’s pub was covered in ivy and had a fire in it. The fire was meant to be there. I don’t like pubs with fires in that aren’t meant to be there. I avoid them. But ones with ivy and purposeful fires are good. I was tempted to call the fire brigade and scream ‘there’s a fire in the pub!’ just so that they too could come round and appreciate it, though I imagine they might not. The pub, near where Tom lives, has been declared as our new favourite pub for these reasons. I also like it because when I asked for a bit of ice in my whisky, the bar woman said ‘ I say its your drink, you should have it how you like. Some proper whisky snobs say “oh no don’t put ice in it, thats not the proper way to do it’ but I say if you want ice, you have ice.’ All at once she managed to belittle my whisky drinking ways and make me happy about them. Well done her.

– There is damp on one of our bedroom walls. It looks a bit like someone’s got charcoal on their fingers and tried to paint one of those psychiatrists ‘what do you see’ pictures on it. Or perhaps as though Rorshach has smeared his face across it. I have just made a call for someone to fix it, but asked for ‘a man to come and look at the damp patch in our bedroom’. I did not realise the innuendo in my phrasing until it was too late. There was a small awkward silence and then the woman on the phone just ignored it and carried on. I assume they have heard it many times before. Or she will just send round a pervert to sniff our sheets and I called the wrong number.

– Fat Tuesday hasn’t yet sold out for next week and I’m honestly not sure why. If I could tell you who the special guests are it really would. But I can’t. So I won’t. Sorry. You can still get tickets here:

– This is, what I consider, some of the fastest rapping ever, topped with it being also a great beat. Shame Twista has now become shit:

– For those of you that don’t like hip-hop (and let me just say I don’t know who you are, but I will presume we will never really get on), have this for lovely Fridayness:

Now for my brain to switch off. *noise of mac doing shut down* Droooooooollllllll…..