Milky Milky

With the baby being 16 months now Wifey has decided that he is no longer going to be getting draft mummy juice. Yes she has decided that enough is enough and it is time to stop breast feeding and regain possession of her thrupenny's.
I am a bit sad at the fact I will no longer be able to have a sneaky ogle every time she whips them out but, on the plus side the baby started sleeping better right from the first night.
It has been 4 days now since the breast feeding stopped and Wifey's knockers have inflated like Jordan's and become very tender. Out of the goodness of my heart I offered to vigorously massage them for her but she just said "get off you perv"


Ruby Thursday
Last night I went out on a team meal to our Local curry house the Tale of India , had a few beers and the worlds hottest chicken Jhalfrezi. We have been using the Tale of India for our team meals for about 6 six years and I highly recommend it if you happen to be in Docklands and in urgent need of a ruby.
I'm not much of a boozer and last night I had one bottle of Corona in the pub (which I managed to knock over, so only drank two thirds of it) and in the resturant I had 2 jumbo sized bottles of Cobra of which I only drank one and a half. This morning I had a bit of a headache and have felt very sluggish all day. At age 41 after two and a bit beers I'm wrecked. This is a sad state of affairs.

Celebrity Freak Show

Because I'm sad I have been watching Celebrity Big Brother. It has so far been the usual mix of minor or faded celebs (who all apparently "hate" the word celebrity) faking kindness and respect for their peers and gradually getting on eah others nerves and having a series of minor hissy fits. But on last night's programme it all got a bit nasty.
The group were given a banking task, and Preston (who?) and Chantelle (who?) as the bank directors were given special access to an exclusive club (a plush secret room with food and drink). Preston and Channy were told they had to keep it a secret.
The rest of the group were later told about the club and the fact that it was to be kept secret.
In what turned out to be a really nasty row Pete "I'm a not a gay transexual" Burns and George "saddam's bitch" Galloway ganged up on Preston and Channy for being "lying little sneaks" when they knew they were under orders to lie to win the task. The row also dragged in Dennis "I don't give shit" Rodman on the the attack and Michael "what was that splash" Barrymore came to the defence of the much younger Peston and Channy.
What this row showed to me was that George Galloway has probably destroyed his politcal career by doing this programme and Pete Burns showed that he is also ugly on the inside.

Pete Burns in the CBB house Jacuzzi yesterday

"AArrgghh please don't drag me off by my ankles to your basement dungeon, torture me, bugger me and murder me horribly"......
... was the thought that went through my mind as I looked at his wild hair and mad staring eyes.

On Sunday I had decided that I was going to wash my bike and nothing was going to stop me, not children, not Wifey, not nothing. So at about 6 o'clock in the pitch dark there I was alone in the access road /alleyway that runs behind my garage, washing my bike. The only light came from my garage and a small light on the back of the garage to help me see when I get in late.
I was suddenly aware of a large man striding purposely up the alley towards me in the darkness, he walks past me and then stops dead in his tracks and half turns around to stare back down the alley.
I casually look at him and notice his remarkable resemblence to Oddbod from Carry on Screaming. It was at this point that I started to suspect that he was a serial killer.
Oddbod continued to stare down the alley for about a minute (which believe me is a long time when you're face to face with a (potential) unhinged killer) "you alright mate?" I enquired.
He lurched forwards towards me and in a voice like a deaf person* loudly said "3 kid, throw 'tones at my house" I was taken back by the suddenness of his outburst and also by his mad staring eyes.
"no one has come down here in the last 15 minutes" I said whilst thinking "AArrgghh please don't drag me off by my ankles to your basement dungeon, torture me, bugger me and murder me horribly".
Oddbod pointed at his head and then at his arm and said something along the lines of "last time, 'it my head" and then something about his brothers arm. "oh" "er" "that's not nice is it?, I'll keep my eyes open for anyone coming this way". By this time I was convinced I'd never see my wife and children again and that I would live out my years in a dingy cellar as Oddbod's sex bitch.
Oddbod said something about the Police not being interested and then turned round and marched off up the alley. I have to say that although he was in no way threatening I was actually a bit scared. What a wuss.
After narrowly escaping death and washing the bike, safely back indoors I remarked to Wifey "oh by the way I had a run in with a mass murderer out the back of the garage" "oh" she replied feining interest as as if I was talking nonsense "would you like a cup of tea?"




*footnote: If you've ever spoken with a deaf person you'll know what I mean, but what was strange was that he appeared to hear everything I said to him!

Bluurrgghh!!


This post is dedicated to Gemmak to reinforce her choice not to have kids and to NML, whose Mum is desperate for NML to produce some grandchildren, as a warning.

Tuesday evening I got home from work at about six o'clock to find Big'un sitting on one sofa watching the Simpsons and Little'un lying on the other sofa with his head on a pillow. Wifey tells me that Little'un didn't eat much dinner and said he wanted lie down as he was tired.
Two minutes later big'un says "Daddy look" and points at Little'un being sick on the sofa. I grab Little'un, sit him up and shout to Big'un to bring me some kitchen roll. Little'un brings up a huge amount of sick which I skillfully manage to catch on a cushion ( I swear he must be like Dr Who's Tardis, bigger on the inside as he produced so much vomit) anyway Big'un returns. With one sheet of kitchen roll. Great. "GET ME SOME MORE" I scream at him while trying to prevent sick from running down the back of the sofa with my hand, he brings another two sheets and says "I'll get you some more if you need it!
Wifey had taken the Baby up for a bath, so I escorted Little'un up for a bath aswell, it wasn't until I started to clean up properly that the full horror of the situation became clear.
We have Leather sofas, we bought these deliberately as leather is easy to clean. When you lift the seat cushions off however the base and sides of the sofas are just thin material. Little'un had managed to sick the mother lode down the side of the sofa where it had run into the base.
It took me 2 hours to clean up and I had to up-end the sofa and cut open the underneath to clean out the sick.
In the meantime Wifey had bathed all 3 kids and put them all to bed. As Wifey had a friend visiting the next day we still had to tidy up, wash the floor , hoover etc, you know do all the things you only do when people are visiting. The baby woke and Wifey tried to get him back to sleep while I did the housework. At 9:30 I went out for some chips (the only cure when in times of stress) and then managed to watch Jonathan Ross' Asian Invasion on BBC4 (it was fantastic, all about extreme Japanese films, make sure you check it out next week as it's about Hong Kong cinema)
I retired to bed at 11:00 very tired. At approx 05:30 I was woken by the sound of Little'un traipsing in to our room, where he announced,
"my trousers are wet"
AAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!!!.