A birthday

I've had to get the abacus out

Birthday. Yes, another one. Thanks everyone for the kind wishes and cards and phone calls and diner and I'm off to the IMAX for part two of The Hobbit on Monday and a first look at the new Wembley for the Quins at Saracens in March.

Now. I knew I'm over 50 because I've had a 50^th birthday, and I knew must be an odd-number birthday, and I knew it wasn't or 59. So while I couldn't reel it straight off, it didn't take so much narrowing down.

How I spent my summer vacation

The original title was Get The Gringo. I've realised that DLL is probably too young to have seen, or know of the existence of, the Max Max films, and maybe even the Lethal Weapons. That's a six-film project, right there. (Were there three Lethal Weapon films?) Edit: That's a seven-film project right there.

Anyway, I know Mel Gibson's had no end of ups and downs recently, expressed some dodgy opinions and stuff, but I'm not on any boycott or anything and How I Spent My Summer Vacation was a good watch.

It also kept BLISS happy: it was set in a prison. It wasn't set in space. It had an ending without too many loose ends. It was set in a Mexican prison. Fro hell.

It kept DLL happy: it was in colour.

It kept them both happy: it moved along quickly (I remain baffled that they'll tolerate scrub-room sink medical melodramas, but found Killing Them Slowly unfolded at too slow a pace – but then again, 99% of television leaves me baffled, from Ant and Dec through to the X-Factor (I tried, but could only come up with Z Cars to take me through to the end of the alphabet)).

Not only did I not get a card...

...postmarked The Emirates and signed “looking forward to unlocking the wallet again in January, we need reinforcements to remain competitive on all fronts”, we lost. Ok, it was away at Citeh, where they look very different to when they travel away from the Middle Eastlands, but shipping six goals 'aint pretty.

Dodgy doggy bagging

We've had the worst doggy bagging service ever. Everything not to be mixed up was mixed up. The onion bhajees made the nan bread soggy. DLL was the only one to get away with it, her three spoons of prawn korma all alone in a ten-gallon container.

They got flowers. A rose each, a nice touch. However, another example of sexism raising its head, as the blokes get naff all. I suppose the assumption is that we've already had our own weight in lime pickle and papadums so any further treats are redundant. Small bottle of Cobra or Kingfisher wouldn't go amiss, if we're not stopping at the mock after eights and mint imperials.