As Baloo sings in 'The Jungle Book' - "It's just the beer necessities, forget about your worries and your wife" or even more poetically, Homer Simpson - "Beer - the cause and solution to all man's troubles". The sun has come back, I'm happy again and as I write this I am sat on a terrace in a T-shirt, in Noviembre, enjoying a cerveza (beer). Whilst it is still in my tiny, pickled brain - simplest way to avoid a hangover? don't stop drinking!
Today, I nearly completed my portion of Christmas shopping - Santa has to delegate you know. I just have the two biggest things to get, one each for my two children. There is no point in buying electronic goods here and taking them over to the UK. Invoking the guarantee would be pointless as it would cost more than it saved. Also, the instruction manual would be in Spanish - again, pointless as neither of my children speak or read Spanish. Shouldn't be a problem for my son - he's male and thus has the "Will read instruction manual only after I have chuffed it up" gene.
Manana, someone may be 151 Million Euros richer. Chuffing hell - what a responsibility! You could buy Cuba or anything. I already have my second place lottery ticket - no point in picking the winner and being disappointed when it doesn't happen. As the old adage says, 'no point crying over spilt milk' - to which I would add....spilt beer - call the FBI, MI5, KGB......(ha, bet this gets flagged by the spying chuffers!!)
I might be going to Paris (France not Texas) soon to see my lovely friend and her equally lovely new baby. I used to hate Paris - it's the reason I choose not to speak Freanch even though I can. Now I have to reconsider my position. Had a lovely Sunday afternoon on sat on the grass overlooking the Eiffel Tower with beer, friends and an acoustic guitar - sweet memories *sighs*. Sunday, Bloody Sunday ;-)
Finalmente, -> It's no wonder there is a relationship between alcohol and beauty. The more you drink, the more beautiful people you can see. There is a caveat in that one reaches a point at which, what seems like a really good idea at the time is not, and you will realise either the morning after or 9 months later (24 if you invaded a zoo and thought that big huggly grey thing looked irresistible).
Time for food - my stomach is sending messages to my brain asking if my throat has been cut.