Happy Gingerday everyone.
'Oh my god I'm so excited about Ginger day I could tear my hair out! Pass me the oil beea-tchessss. I'm gonna rip my clothes off and dance the dance of jiggy ginger for your pleasssssssure. Fatcat, stop drooling like that, you're ruining your magenta lipstick.'
I don't know what is going on with the weather at the moment, and I care not a jot. But as I sit here in a vest and shorts on the 7th of Spetember IN IRELAND (!) I am filled with a glee I normally reserve for the sound the seal breaking on a bottle of seven year old rum, I am reminded that joy is fleeting, cement, not so much. The forecast fot the weekend is good chumlies, the paramour think there might even be time for another bar-b- cue, ( there won't be actually, I-for some reason best left know to my digestive tract- really really want a kebab and that is what I will get on Satdee, right after we ( me, the paramour and the paramour's bro) use lump hammers on the Paramour's daddy's barna shed! Huzzah, breaking stuff)
I shall not waste this day! It's warm, and sunny and there are birds twittering, not magpies neither. I think I will wait for my sambo of grilled pig to digest and then I will toddle off for a run. In the sun. Oh what fun. Right, I"m done.