Balsamic Bollocks

Wotcher!

Am on cloud eight after going out with Colin for sunday lunch yesterday. I am pleased to say that it went realy well and we are gonna see each other again.

Am still a bit worried that he is a bit on the gay side as he never tried to feel my tits once. Still we were in The Harvester surrounded by loads of people so I mite have to let him off for that one. He paid for it all quite rightly as blokes should pay for everything. I am a modern girl and all that but I still think that theres give and take in relatoinships. He gives and I take.

Had prawn cocktail to begin with followed by roast beef and all the trimings then sherry trifel for pud. None of this fucking ponsey ‘drizzeld in balsamic vineger’ bollocks or ‘on a bed of wilted spinach’ shit. Those fancy london menus should of stayed where they belong – in bloody london. Give me pub grub any day.

Am missing Moms home cooking like mad and going on her letter to us at the weekend, she is missing proper food too. Aunty Jean tries dead hard by cooking dads tea twice a week but if I can be a bit harsh here, it tastes fucking rank. Still she has been dead helpful and is always helping dad tidy up his and moms bedroom. So much so that they never seem to get around to doing another room. They must have been moving furniture around cause dad was so out of breath when he came out onto the landing the other afternoon.

I will share the contents of Moms letter with you tomorrow just so you have a taster for what life could soon by like for shampayne. Am so nervous about Wednesdays court apearence that my bladder is on overdrive. I tell you, my gusset has never been so sweaty.

Laters x