Walkabout Catch Up

I’m back from my Walkabout.
It started off in Wiltshire and moved to the Pembrokeshire coast for a few cracking days.
Jess the hound loved it. Sandy beaches must feel lovely on Greyhound feet.
I'll put some pics on when blogger starts to behave.

A lot seems to have happened.
First, and most importantly, Housemate Claire has had her surgery.
Everything went well and they got all the cancer out.
She won’t be needing the ‘bigger buns’ anymore, about four cups less!
The not so great news is that she is now diabetic.
She is still in hospital but should be out within the next few days.

In Italy, it turns out the Septic might have stabbed the British girl.
They don’t usually get so up close and personal.
They prefer flying past, really fast and bombing the shit out of the British.
What’s really getting on my tits is the Media insistence on calling her ‘Foxy Knoxy’.
She’s not a Topless Model or some WAG; she’s a fucking murderous Nutter!
‘Horny Hindley’?
No?
I didn’t think so either.

At a house in Margate they are finding bodies buried all over the place.
A few weeks ago they were digging up the garden at a house 5 minutes walk from mine because of this bloke.
I wonder how many people have had a quick look at their house deeds, checking for the name Peter Tobin?
I wonder how many Landlord’s around the country are thinking,
‘Oh Fuck! I recognise him!’, and banning all gardening activities?

I went to see the ex Bro in law today.
A few weeks back his Mum asked if would be okay to decorate the house.
I thought ‘Go ahead! Only adds value to my property!’
She spent £2500!
New bathroom suite, tiles, new flooring and the whole house painted.
The full Schwarma.
People, it’s the worst decorating job I have ever seen.
It looks like someone has got hold of an angry, blind octopus; got eight paint rollers and said,
“Express yourself”.
Somehow the gloss on the bathroom door looks like fecking Artex!
How does that happen?!
There are drips, bald patches, thick patches….
It hurts to continue.
I’m not being ungrateful but she spent good money on that and I think she has been well and truly done.

Today has been fucking freezing which means the ‘Hell Mouth’ that lurks in the kitchen has opened once again.
Everything in the cupboards is stone cold.
Opening a drawer releases a frigid blast that’ll freeze the moisture in your eyes, so that opening the fridge is a blessed relief.
Just to send my bile duct into overdrive, it’s poxy Children in Need and the England match couldn’t be more shite.
To top it all off, my beloved QI is a Children in Need edition.
Grrrr…

It’s good to be home.