Reasons to be cheerful...

Taking a leaf out of the book of the Little Red Boat... Reasons to be cheerful:

1. Something good and positive happened in my sister Sue’s life today.
2. I have a five hour train journey this evening, I bought a new book and intend to buy a six pack of lager or a bottle of red wine.
3. At the end of the journey, Cathy will be meeting me.
4. After Cathy meets me and drives me home ... Sam time.
5. I just got Simon on English, reading, paying attention to detail language thing. I’ve been waiting for at least five years to do this.
6. We’re going to Yorkshire tomorrow.
7. We have no plans for the weekend but my Mum is gagging for some exclusive Sam time so we might as well go to the pub.
8. Timothy Taylors’ best bitter.
9. Tetley's Best Bitter.
10. The Pennines.

Staff morals

All leave is cancelled until morals improve.

Python Boy

This story about Python Boy will make all you parents and possibly some of you snake owners out there recoil in horror.

Well done

To my little sister Sue who passed her driving test on the first attempt this morning. Well done Sue, now wipe that smug grin off your face.

Staff morale

All leave is cancelled until morale improves.

The Management

You really can't fail with optional third-generation matrix approaches.

'e by gum mail

From a conversation with my mother regarding a document that my sister wants me to see. You have to imagine a fairly broad “Last of the Summer Wine” Yorkshire accent.

Me: Get Sue to email it to me next time you speak to her and I’ll have a look.
Mum: Alright luv, I’ll tell ‘er to send it over ‘t thing.

It's me feet

I can live with the hair problems, receding hairline, greying temples, hairy ears and hairy nostrils. I can live with the shoit term wassname loss. But today is the last straw, I’m going to see the chiropodist this morning to ‘ave me feet done! Can you direct me to the shop that sells grey cardigans please young man?

Update: I've 'ad me feet done. What a strange experience.

Il Grande Nationale

It is a little known fact that the Via del Corso in Rome was used for “riderless” horse races. They would tie heavy spiked metal balls to the sides of the horses, fill their rectums with boiling pitch and see which one could run the fastest. "Did it hurt?" I hear you ask. Well, only if you got boiling pitch on your fingers.

Tip of the day...

Don't purchase a dwarf with learning difficulties. It's not big and it's not clever.

via email from Tristan

Il traffico

Roman traffic rules were developed during the chariot races in the Circus Maximus and have changed little over the centuries. Anyone over the age of fourteen can ride a scooter, no licence required; it appears to be same with cars and trucks. It is every man for himself, just point and go. When crossing the road, find an old lady, preferably a nun and cross downstream of her. If there are no convenient old ladies or convenient convents, wait until you are an old lady, or take the veil and then cross the road very slowly looking neither left nor right, don’t forget to wait for the tourists. Don’t wait for a gap in the traffic, there are none.

Mi scusa, dove e il bano?

There is only one toilet in Rome, it is blocked, flooded, if there is a seat it is broken, there is no paper, no lock on the door and a very disorganised but surprising polite (unless there's a German in it) queue loafing fashionably outside.

Veni vidi vici...

Home from Rome (I’m a poet and I didn’t know it) with lots to say on the subject once I collect my thoughts, get the taste of ice cream out of my mouth and stop playing “Oh Sole Mio!” on brain FM. Did I miss anything?