I apologise for not posting yesterday but I did have quite a busy day.

…Oh, don’t look at me like that.

I do have a life outside of the blogasphere, y’know!

…Oh, so I’m not allowed a life now, is that the way it is?


Today’s yesterday’s post is on my ultimate fantasy dinner party.

Let me see.




That Beethoven fella– For the tunes. Obviously. Failing that, will accept MC Hammer or Westlife.

Boris Johnston– For the banter and shenanigans.

Brian Blessed– In the likelihood that a polar bear is acting the big lad and needs a punch in the face.

A rude, drunken polar bear– To act the big lad and antagonise Brian Blessed.



A random gentleman with a monocle and top hat– To add a touch of class and exclaim, “Ooh! Good Heavens!” when shit goes down between the polar bear and Brian Blessed.


Marilyn Monroe– To ask her politely to stop with the uninspiring quotes which seem to have helped breed a generation of promiscuous young females, who copulate with Mick, his friend Joe and that boy from next door and then go on to complain of ill-treatment from these male counterparts. It’s not all bad, though, because there’s a quote to help them through such hardship and remind them that it’s okay to be a slut.

My dead cat ‘Jake‘- This is the guy cat which we named ‘Jake’ until she had kittens in my Dad’s car. Then, like gender reassignment people do, we tried to give her a female name similar to that of her old guy name just so life isn’t too awkward. We tried ‘Janice’ but she didn’t appreciate it much. She refused to answer to anything other than Jake. Then she just died one day.  Mysteriously, she was found dead at the bottom of the lane without a scratch. We interrogated the dog but he stuck to the story that he saw nothin’. I’d like her present to entertain the guests with her tale of blood curdling murder.


La Menu:



Heinz tinned Tomato Soup & a lump of bread.


Doner kebab & few chips.


I think there’s an ice-lolly or two stuck to the back back of the freezer.



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