Happy Birthday!

Appy birf'day to you

Appy birf'day to you,

Appy birf'day dear TBG (17),

Appy birf'day toooo yooooouuuuuu.

That's flown by a bit, hasn't it? Smuggled into the Florida theme parks for free, in your pushchair. Fourth day of the Pakistan test match at Lords. Coriolanus and Titus Andronicus at the Globe. Golf. Cricket. Those magnificent cakes (and I'm not even fond of cakes). Going to the pictures. Poker. Games at Christmas. PGL. France. Wales. Picking up the girls, their fist walk with us on the beach. Happy birthday.

Good v Mucky Chinese

TBG(17), MM, and BLISS have had some very healthy option Chinese food. I've had special fried rice, pancake rolls and curry sauce. With extra chilli sauce. The dogs like fortune cookies, which is just as well, because we're not going to eat them. Mine said I was going to have a lot of fun this summer. Apparently, TBG(17)'s current travails are going to be tomorrow's good old days. The best ever was TBG(17)'s which read: “Help! I'm trapped in a fortune cookie!”.

Mallrats

We're going to watch Mallrats. Eventually, when we reconvene. MM and THBG(17) are setting up the camera he bought her (good work MM), BLISS is letting next door's dog out, and I'm listening to Beach House and typing this. Its got Silent Bob and the other bloke in it, from Clerks, which made me laugh, a lot, out loud. So, I'm typing quickly so I can watch it properly and not do that laptop on lap half-attention thing. The one I'm always telling other folk off about.

Death race Romford

There's a place in Romford, so we're told, where you can pay a fee and have a drive around without a licence. There's traffic lights, zebra crossings, junctions and all sorts of stuff and kids can have bit of a go before having lessons out on the road. That's a wonderful idea. Mine is to do something similar, but with cones. Cones that you can plough into, before running over the blokes putting out the cones when no work's being done. Then you could plough into the blokes on their phones / leaning on brooms / checking the broom leaners' and phone talkers' high viability jerkins, hard hats and stell toecap boots. Then lob petrol bombs at tractors / cranes / those 'wide load' things / caravans. Then knock over some temporary traffic lights at sites where no work whatsoever is being undertaken.

Actually, that would be a useful lesson for anyone learning to drive. A day of three hour delays on the M25, waiting at interminable roadworks, standing still at green lights because the crosstraffic has blocked the junction (again, again). Driving around in circles trying to find a parking bay among the many empty but residents only spaces.

The endless needs of the car: more petrol? Already? Fill the wiper bottle, I only did it two months ago. Brakes, tyres, oil, bulbs. Where does all the rubbish come from? I emptied it all out into two black bags what seems like days ago. What! Another wash? I gave you one two weeks after purchase, just at the end of the honeymoon period.