Spent a few hours last night playing the love-song game... basically you involve yourself in serious alcohol or psychotropic drugs for a while then you take turns choosing titles of love songs and changing the love word to lunch, hence: I'm not in lunch... or lunch, lunch me do...
hmmm... I knew it would be an error trying to explain a game for fucked up people while sober. And you have to be of the generation that truly understands the singular beauty of a long, greek lunch.
you see the game started as another one where a main word in a title of a film or song was changed for the word Snatch. ie: one flew over the cuckoo's snatch... the italian snatch, etc...
ok, this isn't working.

My satellite thing has gone and fucked up so i'm digging out old cd's and tormenting myself trying to remember when i last played them, at the mo it's Republic by new order, what a pile of tosh... now why did i buy that?

Was looking after a friends young son the other day and decided a bit of shopping was in order... ho ho, kids, aren't they the best, hmmm. At the moment he has a "booby" fixation, admirable in a two year old, and one i suggest he won't be growing out of in a hurry.
So we go shopping and run into a young lady i know who happens to be the owner of a prodigious chest. Now, in 3 years i have avoided staring, drooling or even obliquely refering to this, the young lad, god bless him, has no such compunction.
"Boobies" he shouts, pointing at the lads, "boobies, boobies..."

She took it very well, a damn sight better than if i had shouted boobies i bet, although you must know that it was on my lips, as it were.
Anyway it gave me the chance to stare and drool without shame, after all i was merely following the lad's pointing finger, right?

But now it's out there you see, not only have i officially noticed her impressive chest, but she knows i have, and things could get awkward from here on in.
Kids...

The badgers got into the pool last night, showing off their impeccable backstroke, again.

Anyway, today i'm off to play unashamed film fan etc with enemabag and other scruffy tykes...
...ho hum....Snatch Wars 3 ... sorry.