The weekend

Friday:  Kids, food, kids, chat, career break?  So soon!!!  Kids.  Shower.  Panic.  Red Bull.  Ready.  Hummmmmmmmmmmmmer!!!!  Gas Craic.  Singing.  Pow, headache.  Yay, great barman!  Dancing.  Walking home barefoot.  Puttting world to rights with sister.  Arguing over duvel with # 3.

Saturday: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Panic, being attacked by spiders.  No-uh, eyelashes, never again.  Up.  Out.  Home.  Out.  Blahblahargueblah!  Museum.  "Why did Pete squash the bogman?" - Oscar.  Lunch, ouch.  Art Gallery.  Found picture, alright.  Got lost.  Found other picture???  Is # 1 for real?  He likes that?  Rain.  Dead Zoo.  Where's the whale?  Ahhh, can't see him it's too late, dead zoo closing.  Car.  Banging head.  Home.  Bath.  Strange person at door who knows me.  Strange person won't leave.  Get out of bath and listen to strange person going on about their life.  Like strange person but have enough people in my life.  Bye-bye.  Back into bath.  Bed. 

Sunday: Zzzzzzzzz.  Can't sleep.  Up.  Breakfast.  For everyone.  Start cleaning up.  Look at fridge and take pity on stuff in it.  Turn fish into pie and sausages into bean stew.  Dinner sorted.  Give directions to mate so they can find house.  Make pancakes.  Go find mate who couldn't follow my directions (turns out what I thought was a t-junction is in fact a crossroads, who knew?).  Big hugs.  Hello kids.  Feed everyone pancakes (haute cuisine eat your heart out).  Bye friends and kids.  Clean up.  Feed kids.  Read magazine about . . . . can't remember, dozzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzze.  Aaagh, awake.  Tea.  Yes, cup of tea.  Didn't I have a beer?  No, spilt.  Watched Dr. Parnasus and wished I watched something else.  Clean up.  Bed.  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz . . . . "ARTHUR GET INTO YOUR OWN FRICKING BED!!!!!!!!!!!"  - Harry

Monday:  Here we go again.