Disintercombobulatory Dinner

The Badman has had his new desk delivered. Well, I say new, what I mean is old. This monstrous piece of Victoriana is his inspiration, his muse if you will that is pushing him forward to write his tome, his novella, his life's work in a sort of steampunk / H.G.Wells kind of way.

Anyway, I'm hoping he gets a shift on as he has the New West Midlands Dictionary to get written before Monday and words don't just make themselves up you know! They have to be clearly defined and go through all manner of intradecatagorisationary processes - as any dictionary compiler worth their salt would know.

I, on the other hand have far less lofty aspirations for this weekend. A Friday night Chilli for Mrs G and son (daughter is off out gallivanting with Auntie S) and a whole lot of what ever is on the telly (or visualguesstiamation) will start the weekend off. Washed down with a bottle of red, but not a late night (or reduced imbibery-regenerisation as its more commonly known round these parts)


I have to get a decent amount of sleep tonight just because in the morning I have a stupidly early start to go and play golf with the Alleycats Golf Society up in the clouds near Cheltenham. Not only is it at a ridiculous time of the morning to be getting up on a Saturday but the weather forecast is horrendous. Worse still, I'm paying (quite a bit) for the privilege - clearly I must be insane (or just entraframilliond whilst at rest)

That said, a day out with the lads, taking the pish (urinaryextradition) out of eachother, trying to win slightly rubbish trophies and then enduring a kangaroo court with alcoholic charges in the evening is actually a great way to spend a good few hours. This will all be over during the wee small hours of Sunday morning, and so you can't expect me to be up particularly early on Sunday morning.

Not wishing to make life easy for myself though, Sunday morning will be all about prepping for Sunday lunch with the outlaws (boeuf a la fogey) Roast beef I think, so shouldn't be too much of a hassle and perhaps it won't be quite as much of an early start as I imagine, but time will tell.

Before you know it, it'll be Monday again and back to the "wondering what we'll be doing next" job. I'm already sprandled at the thought of it.

This post originally appeared here: Posterous


  1. In years to come when minds are more receptive and open to new ideas they will appreciate the merits of my philosophies and theories and my works will be recognised. Mwahaha ...

    ... in the mean time I am mocked and appear in "satirical" journals depicted in crude caricatures as a Portly Bear accompanied by a mocking Tiger.

    My time will come ...


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