1. Today we were consumed by the FLAVOUR. We aren't sorry. It's bank holiday. Things happen. Shit goes down. We went there. It's all gravy.
2. The kids and I just returned from a family weekend away at some local relatives. It was most fun. My OH had the whole bank holiday weekend to himself to bake cakes. It should have worked. It did. But he informed me of a most funny story about his Sunday night out. I was amused. I'll tell you lot: after 9ish hours on the piss, he was in a reasonably nice club and decided that his bowels were moving. He actually was in a *night out* and needed a poo. He went. In the nice club. He fell asleep on the toilet for approximately 8mins whilst doing his thing. I found this really funny. I can't imagine needing to do that on a night out. I find it funny that the idea is inconceivable to me. Of course some people want to that on a night out. Weird people.
3. During my family weekend away, my OH did lots of cleaning (maybe prompting the enthusiastic gut) and tidying and chucking stuff away. He found new porn. This spurred a few high fives on our return. Weird people are us. Dat shit ain't normal. (I mean our eagerness....not the porn content).
4. We got a kebab tonight after FLAVOUR delving. The kids came too. They had something nutritious and biege. We had a Chicken Shish and Cocky Chilli Sauce. Hands up! We are tossers. We have spent the last 20mins eating it in the most unattractive state. The newly discovered porn is most needed now. Imagine the old cartoons of the thirst-stricken starving man, ragged, dragging himself through the desert in search of salvation and hope. That was us. We consumed the Cocky Twat Chilli sauce riddled Shish with gusto and quick regret. We panted like sweaty dogs. We actually had our tongues hanging out of our mouths.
5. My OH keeps passing wind. I've gone beyond the point of getting cross. This transition *actually* happens when you've known each other a long time. He has done it *so* many times! and the stench is so unreservedly pungent, that it now makes me guffaw most cheerfully. He doesn't even mean to be so rotten. I don't like the action, nor the smell. But he clearly can't help it. No one would choose to be so fundamentally foul.
6. There's not much that makes a parent move quite so quickly**** off their pub bench that a large *eager* dog that has entered a beer garden without being invited and started swishing around the kids.
7. This is funny. My son, who is a bit daft, launched himself onto our local pub's bouncy castle today. He was so excited and flappy. The bouncy castle wasn't even inflated!!! It was flat!! Haw haw!! I really laughed. He couldn't bounce at all! He looked at me, whilst remaining flappy and excited, and slapped the sad stitched vinyl a few times. I was giggling into my Sauvignon.
8. After our manageable kebab, we watched Storage Wars. If you haven't seen it, do. It features a series of private storage units that have done to disarray and are subsequently sold off to the highest bidder with the intention of selling the contents on for profit. The idea is cool. The contents are interesting. But the bidding is most exceptional. There are a group of Brandis, Randis, Candis and Als who all fancy this collective of crap gear. Real shit junk. The organiser guy is asking for bids. He does it likes this: mmmmm-galah-balah-balah-wallawalla-wallaballa-WANT!-HUNDRED!! Mmmmmmm-walla-ballah-wallWallA Wahhhhh!!!! Balla-Galla-TWO!!!! Wah!! Gah!! THREE!!! FOUR-FIVE!!!! Mmmmmmmm-walla-wallla-walllla.. Someone eventually wins!
****i didn't see it. I was texting someone probably.