Thursday Just Won't Go

Mutterings continued.

Had a great time at the Greek Taverna last night. We started with the dip platter - white stuff, pink goo and hummus, dolmades, Greek bread and fetta and then I had the bbq platter - chicken wings, yummy snossages and lamb cutlets and salad. I resisted desert but could have been tempted by the sorbet with liqueur in it.

Leece got a very, very cool pen set for her b/d. We were all deeply jealous and offered to look after it for her. Oddly, she refused our offers.

I had difficulty getting all the junk mail out of my letterbox this afternoon. I thought the local rag must have been in there somewhere, but no, it was all cattledogs. I'm in the market for a bigger telly as I'm fed up of not being able to read the subtitles on my 34". *sigh* I'll be needing a magnifying glass to read the labels on things, next.

News from Ananova:

"Residents of a Suffolk seaside resort are up in arms over reports that members of The Darkness may be planning to move in. Jennifer Hursell, the clerk of the town council, said: "People come to Southwold for a quiet time. They don't come to play their electric guitars on the beach. The whole thing is nonsense." Not unless they want to get electrocuted, of course.

"Boyzone's Shane says he's found God" He was down the back of the sofa with a biro, a 2p piece and an empty crisp packet.

Happy birthday, Ronnie Corbett. And Pamela Stephenson, who's 53. Blimey!