Well, here I am again. We decided to kick sky into touch. There is only so much Cracker one can watch in the wee small hours.
Mr C is snoring for England I don't want to put my light on for fear of disturbing him.
As a result I decided to wander in here. My god you lot are messy and Baldy seems to be sound asleep and snoring loudly under Darwin's well worn and slightly stained leather armchair over there in the corner.
I will switch the urn on and tidy up a bit whilst I am waiting for it to warm up. Whoever chucked what appears to be a vat and a half of red wine over Darwin's latest copy of 'Turnip weekly' is going to be in for it. The ash trays are overflowing and what's the betting that it was Apey who poured the dregs of a pint into the one on the round table. It stinks and the fag ends have disintegrated.
I was thinking of bringing my mother in here for her usual schooner of Sherry but if the place is a mess she won't like it one bit. Perhaps I could send her to visit Miss D, she could knock some common sense into her bloke, sort out ' the brat' and make tea for the builders like.
Talking of tea the urn is ready and rearing to go.....
Ahhhhhhhh wonderful.
