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Saturday, August 12, 2006

It's been a difficult week, and I haven't felt like blogging, possibly due to the lack of carbohydrates in my diet, but to summarise the key moments of the past few days...

Monday: Lisa's mother visited my flat for the first time, saw a photo of her own grandson, and said "Oh, I've always wondered what your niece looks like". I think it might be time to consider the Springfield Retirement Castle.

Tuesday: With the Barbara Windsor behemoth now a permanent fixture on the marina roundabout, I decided to walk to Asda instead. Which meant passing the naturist beach. Where I saw a woman who looked like she'd come straight from Glastonbury, striding onto the beach with a small child aged about eight, and immediately taking both their clothes off. I didn't know whether to applaud her liberal approach to parenting, or call the police.

Wednesday: I roasted some chickpeas. I won't be doing it again.

Thursday: I considered buying some 'Organic Viagra' from the greengrocer's down the road. Obviously I don't need it at all (just thought I'd make that clear), but I couldn't help but be intrigued by a box full of what looked like shrivelled up brown bananas, with a sign which simply said "Organic Viagra - 6 for £1". I'm sure you can't get the real thing for that kind of money. After extensive research, I've decided it was probably Safed Musli, which sounds like a suicide bomber, but is in fact a plant from India.

Talking of which, am I the only one who felt slightly puzzled at Heathrow Airport's rule that you can only take baby milk onto the plane if you're willing to drink some in front of the security people? It strikes me that anyone willing to commit mass murder by blowing themselves up at thirty thousand feet, is probably going to be willing to drink a bit of chemical cocktail. Get them to shake it, that's what I say. Anyone left standing clearly has SMA Gold.

Friday: I played Pirates with Lisa's three nephews, during which Nephew Number Two told me that his yellow blanket is soft, cuddly, and "just like a dog". By which he means it has fleas.

Today: I've attempted to support my local community by attending a jumble sale at the church around the corner. I may have got five Alan Partridge and Frazier videos for a pound, but when you find yourself being constantly elbowed in the ribs by hordes of pensioners trying to get to the cake stall, you do begin to wonder if it's worth it. I was more interested in the top-of-the-range sound system they had in the pulpit, but apparently it wasn't for sale. I should've nicked it and asked God to forgive me.

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