Me, three of my brothers, my younger sis, my mad cousin Caroline, and my favourite nephew Robert. (He's the one with THE eyebrows!) That was a good night. I always have fun with my family.
It's Thursday. Meet Paul (the Plumber) for pints. That's my ManDate. Discuss the world's problems over a few.
'The person you are calling may be out of reach or may have their device switched off'!
Stop ignoring me! Says I!
Got a gobbledegook text message at 8:30.
Paul (the Plumber) as I later found out, was having a bad day, packed up shop, and headed for the pub at 5:30.
Needless to say he was in fierce form by the time I arrived, (8:50).
"Don't give out to me" says he, sitting all alone in the beer garden, big puppy dog eyes, feeling sorry for himself, all 19 stone of his big sad sorry self, like a drunk overweight teenage boy (with a plumbers arse pushin' out of his low slung cheap jeans) meeting his first girlfriend after having had one too many for 'Dutch Courage'!
I managed to get two pints in before it was time to take himself home (2 hours before closing time!) in a cab!
Tells me they are having their third baby early in 2012. No, that's good news. He's feeling sorry 'cos he's getting TOO much work!
That's how we say it's bad, weatherwise! You'd think we'd be used to it by now?! But no, ever hopeful us Irish, where's that feckin' climate change we were promised! :¬)