The little fella is fourteen next week apparently, so they're all going out for a meal. I mean, when I say all, I mean all but me. I never get invited fucking anywhere me. The tight bastards. Anyway, he's asked if he can take his girlfriend, wooohoooo, that's what all the fucking aftershave before school is for then. And he's also asked "please don't embarrass me," the fucking cheek of it. That of course is like a red rag to bull for me Dad, who's decided that this is the prefect occasion to have the "bird n the bees" chat. I caught him practising in front of the mirror before. It's going to go something like this: "Hello Frannie, how lovely to meet you. George has told us all about you. Take a seat. Now then, when a Daddy Sparrow and a Mummy Sparrow love each other very much and they want to have baby sparrows, Daddy Sparrow puts his penis into Mummy Sparrow's special place and 9 months later they have a baby sparrow. When Daddy Sparrow isn't really bothered that much about having any baby sparrows he puts a condom on his penis and chucks it down the back alley afterwards, if you get my drift. This also stops the spread of all sorts of nasty unwanted sexual diseases, especially after Mummy Sparrow got rogered senseless by that group of starlings in the bird bath the other week. Any questions? No, good, now here's a picture of George taking a shit in the bushes when he was two...." I think that should go down well. Tact and diplomacy are me Dad's watchwords.
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.