Stephen Hawking is apparently working on a theory that he says will enable him to predict the precise location of everything in the entire universe. Which is handy, 'cos me Dad says he'd love to know where the wanker that put that dent in his bumper in Sainsbury's car park the other day lives. Woof. Me Dad was saying last night that his first missus once asked him if he fancied a bit of doctor and patient role play. So he said, go one then, I'll give anything a try the once. So he put a white coat on, sat her down and said "I'm sorry MrsN#1, but I'm afraid I have to tell you that you're morbidly obese." Which went down a storm apparently.
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.