Last night he was melancholy and polite (having pissed us both off the night before by insisting that we go pick him up from a different pub on the way home from the theatre so that he and BF could nip into the local for lasties � bearing in mind I had Jooj and Treacle with me and it was already 10ish I thought this was a bit of a flaming cheek but I did it anyway). Took him back to ours when the pub shut as we knew he hadn�t had any dinner and were starting to feel sorry for him by then. Rummaged about in the freezer and found a load of Chinese Takeaway carton, all with bits of�.something in them. Tipped the whole lot into the wok, added half a bag of prawns, some cashew nuts and a big chilli pepper. Delicious.
Arm wrestled BF. The stakes were high � he wanted to get the djembe out and make a load of noise, I wanted him to play All Right Now in the studio with the faders cranked up to 11. Managed to hold him for several minutes � much to the amusement of the Chum, but then I heard something go CliccckkkKerrrCrunch in my wrist and I suspect my tendonitis will be jabbing me in the forearm next week at work and going "Seeeeee! That�s what you get for being unladylike". Anyway, to my chagrin, BF beat me fairly quickly after that � although I still maintain that his very long arms do give him the advantage in the �wrist-over� stakes which, as we know, is the key to winning any arm-wrestling match that REALLY matters.
The djembe got played. But then the joint got smoked, the cup cakes got eaten, the fridge got emptied of beer and, eventually, the Parker got plugged in and All Right Now got played � along with Shine on You Crazy Diamond (which I cant stand, having heard every guitar pupil of BF�s murder it unceremoniously on at least one occasion) and some kind of Gary Moore homage which was even worse but seemed to impress Chum most greatly.
Ended up sleeping on the sofa as BF was snoring like a walrus and wouldn�t be stopped by fair means or foul (Fair means: gently rolling him over and saying "You�re snoring sweetie, let�s just get you more comfy". Foul means: "Oh for fucks sake you noisy fucker, its 3 o fucking clock, fucking shut the fuck up" and stuffing lumps of the duvet in my ears and grinding my teeth).
Sofa is lovely and comfy but I did wake up this morning with an attractive waffle design embedded in my corpulent flesh. Memo to self: if naked, remove throws before kipping on sofa.
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