Flip through the latest issue of Gulf Weekly.
It’s been a busy old week…
Not that I really wanted it that way but Hey Ho, you gotta help out sometimes haven’t you, especially when ’Er Indoors wouldn’t let me out to play until all the chores were done.
Grandson Jack is now a fully paid up member of the Catholic Church and I’ve already sent off the invitation to the Vatican for El Bosso to attend his first birthday party. The christening went off very well and after the churchy bit we got down to the main event and all and sundry descended on Casa Da Doo Ron Ron to spent a very (long) pleasant afternoon and evening chewing the fat and, as usual, running down the family members that never attended.
The greedy buggers drank all my beer and wine and totally devoured the magnificent spread that Mrs Da Doo Ron Ron had prepared, it looked so good that even I had some.
The next day was a bit of a quiet affair (“I wonder why?” I can hear you all asking) but we did manage to drag ourselves down the Wheatsheaf for a swift in the evening. Thank goodness Jeffro the Landlord was down at his Sussex bungalow so everyone got an early night as the pub shut at its normal time rather than cockcrow.
Whilst here I thought it would be a hoot to look up my old chum Flakey Fraser as I haven’t seen him since I left Blighty for Q-Land. I trawled all the usual haunts and dives but to no avail, but by chance I met someone who had his new mobile number. After a few days of calling him and leaving messages he obviously finally switched it on and called me back.
“Where are you?” I enquired.
“Poland,” came the response.
“Poland?”
“Yep,” he said.
Digging a bit deeper I asked: “Why Poland?”
“Well, I wanted a bit of a break and a quiet life and I thought Poland sounded a pretty cool sorta place.”
“How did you work that one out?” I asked,
“Looking at all the Polish people flooding into the Hounslow area I thought that it would be a quiet place.”
“Is it ?” I asked.
“Yeah too quiet, every bugger’s left, including all the good looking women but as long as the brewery workers stay put, so will I.” He’s not changed then.
It’s funny isn’t it how you miss Q-Land when you are away from it (said Pinocchio with a wry grin on his face). I’m really missing the weather, the traffic and in particular the Land Cruiser Brigade trying to force me off the rubble-strewn excuse of a road they call the ‘C Ring Road’.
But (big sigh) by this time next week I’ll be back and, as usual, jet-lagged to the max and can already feel a leisurely evening in Garveys coming on with my old chums Bangalore Berty, QP and Roy (I hate Beckham) the CS where I’m sure we will be holding yet another autopsy of where England went wrong and got an early bath. Naaaww, let’s just enjoy the Amstels and Ronaldo jokes.
