Got left "home alone" for four hours on Saturday whilst me Mum & Dad sloped off to the pub to celebrate the end of the school holidays. Six o'clock it was when I got me tea. Six o'stinking clock. Then forced to walk all the way into town on Sunday morning to pick up the car. Even a game of "itchy and scratchy" and "zig zag" en-route failed to lift my spirits. Then to cap the whole sorry episode was made to wait until six o'clock again for me tea on Sunday as they seem to have come up with the crazy notion that I shouldn't be entitled to two teas any more, the tight bastards. My own tea first, followed by a large helping of whatever they're having. If we had a cat I'd kick it. On second thoughts though I might be better off eating it. Kit-e-mince. Yum yum. Pooh count: just the one, I'm running on empty as they say.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.