Sunday, January 07, 2007


The paramour and I go for Sunday lunch. Naturally we return with a 32 inch flat screen television.
We are slowly but surely turning into a pastiche of footballers' wives. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
I think I'll change into jammies and watch a DVD on our new monster screen.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

It could double as a dinner table...

9:04 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Or an extra bed should we need it.

9:06 a.m.  
Anonymous Jimmy Page's Trousers said...

Thirty-two inches is so twentieth century, dahling. Fifty is the new thirty-two.

Consumers today want 'em big. You might as well pop it back in it's tiny box and return it to the shop, lest you be ridiculed by the TV geeks.

1:20 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Fifty? Sweet Chulutha, you'd have to have a room like in 'cribs'. Oh the chavy shame of it.

1:57 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Gotcha beat, spouse brought home a 42-inch flat screen for the basement playroom. We are TRULY moved into the new house now... And yet, still not completely out of the old apartment, since the TV sports schedule only allows for one clean-out trip per day. Damn, THAT Could have waited another week!

3:38 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Yikes! Do you have easyboy recliners too? I would actually like a recliner in brown leather. Hummmm...

3:45 p.m.  

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