cough it up love
This week started off busy and got a bit daft really - last week I made orders that I forgot to equate to realspace - the equivelant of my wife going off shopping with a skip trailing her to dump the bags in, and amnesia every half hour. Blimey there are boxes piled everywhere, the unopened ones are stuff we’ve seen before, and therefore pretty boring, but they are outweighed by far by new stuff. Screaming chickens, choking chickens, lazer balls, dashboard homer simpson dispensing street logic, body parts contained within squishy oozing rubber, mini fridges…….it’s a long list….
Brendan’s battling gamely checking it all and finding both shop and storage space for it all, but what he doesn’t know is that I’m gonna do the same thing all over again this week. Don’t tell him OK. It’ll be a nice surprise for him on Monday when he’s smirking away about the All Blacks cuffing Scotland at Murrayfield. Come to think of it I really ought to order something that will either smell really bad, or look vile and disgusting, but it’s hard to think of anything that can be worse for him than waking up in his own bedroom, and looking in the mirror. I’ll see what I can come up with.
Beautiful wife of mine has ignored my nagging about her chesty cough for long enough for the doc to call it pneumonia - blimey - then she’s gone and coughed so hard that she’s bruised her ribs, and goes around looking like Nelson, with her hand held across her chest. I had to teach her how to cough properly, as she wasn’t really giving it enough gusto, so I feel a bit guilty now.
Come on Scotland, let’s give those Samoans - sorry, I meant Kiwis, a fright on Saturday and let’s try and get the stadium more than half full. Meanwhile we’ll fill the website with brand noo shiny goodies and wait for all your orders. Allez L’Ecosse….