What a monster bollocks the bigger of the cats is. Really, he chaps my hide with his cheek loafing and his, 'let's play attack the sleeping corpse' carry on.
Top of the morning to you chumlies. I and my Carlsberg sized hangover greet you all on this, leap gingerday. If Carlsberg did hangovers they'd probably be the worst hangovers in the world.
However, whatever shape my poor head, and curiously my poor knee, is in, it cannot be nearly as bad as that hussy Sam Problem Child Bride. I would not at all like to be the roof of her mouth this velly morning. What a delightful hussy she is. A pint drinking hussy of exceptional character.
Also, I have seen Gimmie's beard, it is fulsome and awesome, so I have re christened it, fawesome. Indeed he is fawesome. As indeed I am, or rather I ought to be, were I not still reeling about like a demented kipper. Oh all right, everybody is lovely and awesome today, you can be lawsome.
Speaking of fawesome-and kippers, Chumley Twenty Major's-who despite much procrastination and arse dragging- finally released his very first novel this week.
It would be remiss of me not to talk it up large, innit.
So, if you have some spare money in your pocket this weekend that is not earmarked for hooch or painkillers, my suggestion would be to go buy Twenty's book and read it. I have read it, it made me laugh out loud. It also made me groan out loud. Then there was the wincing. Then more laughing. Go buy it.
I have a truly disgusting ginger for today, but it is so vile my delicate stomach cannot bring myself to put it up this early. I will need to be fortified with more toast, more ibuprofen, and yea, more coffee before I inflict this hoolie on either myself or you. See how I care? Oh yes, it's that bad.
So, if you will excuse me, I need to go find a plaster and some more painkillers.
Thanks be to the marmalade that is raining today, I was supposed to be running in park at 10:30, ah ha, ah ha, ah ah, yeah. Good luck with that.
Labels: The power of beer compels me.