Michele was teaching until 8 tonight so I’ve been at home with Humph. Tonight we shared another tender moment: he climbed up on the sofa, onto my lap, and fell asleep while I watched only fools and horses. Lovely. Eventually he had a small crap and then flew over to his cage. There is no other species on the planet that could worry me less by crapping on my jeans. Poor little sod was on his own all day.
Last weekend was surprsingly enjoyable. Ian and Dave were off work on friday whilst Rakesh and Dan had to leave early so there was no after-work drink for the first friday in years. Saturday and Sunday daytimes were spent doing computer work during the day and socialising in the evening. Saturday night I met Toby, Matt B and his mate Andy in Jordans (The Hogshead as was (The Jolly Farmers as was)). Even though we only managed about 20 minutes of violent disagreement, it was a great night. Michele had the belly ache and so we left early and walked back. Michele was hungry by this time and so we picked up a Hummous kebab and ate as we walked back over Hilly Fields. It reminded us both of when Michele was working at the pub and living in BATavia mews halls. We’d frequently end up getting a couple of Humous kebabs, and eating them on the steps of the halls, near a discarded plastic helment which was affectionately known as the humous helmet…
The next day Toby and Petra came round to meet Humph. Humph liked Petra and kept flirting…TARTY little parrott. She was very gentle and calm, which he liked.
Monday night was equally enjoyable because I met up with Andy whom I haven’t seen for months. I’m so crap at keeping in touch with people. Monday was a shit day workwise and so it was the perfect tonic. We both ranted about work in general and enjoyed the company and cheap beer – have I ever blogged about what an excellent place the Glasshouse Stores is in Soho ?
Tuesday consisted of an awayday with Geoff to a company in Basildon where an old contact of ours, Richard Horney (yes yes yes….but he’s a good bloke and knows his stuff – ok?) sold us some storage.
Odd place Basildon. Id always imagined it as a beautiful georgean village when it turns out to be a nasty essex shitpit. On the way back two classic looking Essex girls got on the train and, once Geoff had alighted, I got to listen to their conversation – nosey git that I am. It turns out they were “models” on some dodgy websites. I heard them talking about “members areas” (not necessarily as rude as it sounds).