We are all tired here. Me, the wife, the poodle and the bichon. We are all sick and tired of the awful weather, the soaring taxes, Monsieur Hollande and everything else.
WE ARE SICK AND TIRED.
But not to worry, because in three days we will the load the car, close the shutters over the windows and begin our annual pilgrimage to Italy, where during three weeks we will forget all of our problems and recharge our batteries.
HOLIDAYS IN THE SUN!
Fucking fantastic! Something to aim for and something to make us forget all of our problems.
But if our three week stay in Italy isn't enough to bring a smile to our faces, last night I thought about a multitude of things which have always delivered me pleasure, and which have always boosted my spirit in the most miserable of times.
So, in no particular order, here we go...
|Cricket: It's a fine sport, if you can understand it.|
Strong lager. Hawaiian pizzas. The Sex Pistols. Books by John Steinbeck. Bacon sandwiches. Hot Dogs. Double cheeseburgers. English test cricket in the 1980's. The Two Ronnies. Model railways. Wispa chocolate bars. Indian restaurants. Cornwall. Radio 1 in the 1980's. Paranormal activity. The Swimmer with Burt Lancaster. War films. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.
The Embassy World Darts Championship. Marks & Spencer trifles. English motorway restaurants. Fish and chips. Weekends in Dublin. Day trips to Calais. Holidays in Las Vegas. The taste of buttered toast. Dirty backstreet London pubs. Greyhound races. Lime Jelly and double cream. A trip to Broadstairs. Holidays in Italy.
|Oral Sex: It's better than...|