Friday I ate Chinese with Jemma. I tried Crispy Chilli Beaf as Smith and Hobart used to talk of it in the way White talked of Castlemaine. It was satisfactory. We then watched "Bruce Almighty" as it was on the telly. It was as usual the part of my week when everything got better.
Tonight Watkins and Mr. K came over. We got some food from the Italian nearby. We got a free soap opera as well as our pizzas and cheeseburger and potato wedges. The Italian head chef or something got increasingly annoyed with the lads working with him. At one point he threatened to rip his hair out in a frenzied display of Latino passion.
After avoiding the flying cutlery we got back to mine where we watched a little bit of the Eurovision. Its good to know Gary Glitter's music career is still going strong as Albania's guitarist.
Then we broke with tradition (har-dee har-dee har) and played Bomberman. Upon dying when almost home n dry, Watkins foamed up at the mouth like a mad horse. Phlegm flew out of his mouth by the gallon, and despite our best efforts Mr. K and I laughed for the next 2 games.
Message to parents: Do not let your children or Watkins play Bomberman unsupervised. It may lead to epileptic fits.