For reasons I will not be going in to (as I cant remember them) while we were sitting round the table eating our version of shipscooks Chicken and pasta thingey, (and very nice it was too) Sarah repeated "ABC" a couple of times and Jo, for some reason started to sing

"when you read you begin with A B C"

and sarah gigled like mad, so I sang

"When you sing you beging with Doe Rae Mee!" in a big operatic styleee

Sarah is having hysterics now, along with Jo, so I continue in my best cod opera voice

"The first three notes just happen to be, Doe Rae mee"

and as a quick aside I said to Jo

"Blimey I know all the words, am I gay?"

Quick as a flash Sarah says

"You can't be gay daddy, youve got mummy!"

Which made Jo and I roll around hysterically!

Bloody kids.

Well appron really but I am not sure if I spelt that right. Dyslexic pillock that I is.

So, off now to put "How the west was won" by Led Zep on the cd player in the kitchen, and tackle on of Mr S's (shipscook) recipies for chicken pasta wossname.

Crack open the wine/vodka and play with sharp knives and hot implements!

What could possibly go wrong?

Later possibly, if I still have all my fingers!

In other news, got out of London OK, they appear to be finding more bombs!

Glad I go in and come out of town early.

My charming wife, just told me that the reason she has been a bit emotional is due to her getting into the old PMT zone.

"Oh great" I said. "I will be spending an evening with a drunk pmt-ish woman, that'll be fun. Might have to blog that"

To which she has just replied:

"Go ahead, you attention / sympathy seeking whore! I'll be just your luck that all your other female friends have PMT too! he he he xxx"

This morning some of my work mates were delayed on their journey to this temple of happyness by diversions to the busses. This was due to the car bomb that was found in central London this morning.

Now a friend of mine who also works in London has just said loads of police cars are whizzing by there place of work, and has wondered what is going on.

Have they found another one?

Just going to have a check on the news sites.

Not that I am concerned at all. Who the fuck would start a war on a Friday after all.

As my hand fell upon the glowing brass handle of the bar, the skys opened in spectacular fashion.

"yes you shall stay in there for an hour" said the weather gods.

So I did.

I had a couple of pints and a read about Big cats in Australia, Ghosts in Essex boozers and a dead Monk in tibet. As ya do.

And for the last time in this lifetime, sat in an British boozer with a pint and a cigarette.

When it was time to leave, the sky was blue and the sun was out.

Ah well.

That's that then.

As the smoking ban is almost here, I am taking my last chance to sit in a pub during my work lunch break, with a pint (or two) and have a ciggie as I flick through my magazine.

Tis the end of an era, I am going out to mark its' passing.

No, no. I just have a touch of hayfever today.
(wipes tear from corner of eye, gathers up mp3 player and magazine, heads for the door)

Will be one of ships cooks Chicken and Pasta with other stuff chucked in dishes. Stolen from his very site. The advantage of this dish is that it is all done in one big pan, no separate pan for doing the pasta in. Save washing up!

The other ingredients that cooky uses in his dishes are selected by the most rigorous of means, which normally include the two of us standing in the kitchen drinking Martinis while he rummages through the fridge.

“Hmm, this is nearing its use by date – I’ll stick a bit of this in”

Anything approaching its date that would in no way go in whatever dish he is cooking is normally eaten as a “bar snack” by us as we chat.

So tonight the Mrs and I will crack open the big bottle of Soave that is recommended in the recipe and try to recreate this dish.

And yes. I am missing Mrs F, ships cook and Moff like mad.

ARE YOU GEORGE BERNARD!

Blimey, 90 minutes with no blog, on a Friday?

Whatarewegonnadonow

Whatarewegonnadonow

Whatarewegonnadonow

Whatarewegonnadonow

My brain is full of the tadpoles of confusion who come to play when coffee is scarse.

Had a bit of a job dropping off and getting to sleep last night for some strange and unfathomable reason.

And now I must, reeeeeeeeeely must throw myself at my work.

Sorry I was a bit scarse during the last two parts of the virtual party last night. I have a virtual hangover, having woken up behind the marquee this morning with very little memory of what virtually happenedededid.

Have a good Friday.