Portsmouth Fun

Ah, last weekend at work spent with Boss, Ex-teamster Bills & his lovely boyfriend in their huge mincy house. Every time I go I get the whole top floor to m'self. And, By Gum, his spare bed's comfy. I always spend most of my visits asleep. No exception this time, needed a post-shop, pre-drinks nap yesterday. And I went clubbing! haven't done that since my hen night! Only for an hour or so, but it was very nice. Jongleurs - not too full, and good choons. No idea how much it cost, the boys pretty much paid for everything all night. Then off to our now traditional 1am sit-down curry, which wasn't so good. Really slow and full of the drunk & the lairy.

Spent over £50 in Whittard's! Some of it was Chrimbo prezzies, but a lot of it was for me. I now have more Chai, some Christmas Tea, Rose Tea & Instant Hazelnut coffee. Mmmmm!
Also treated myself to some new gym trousers. only £5 from one of those Sports Discount Stores. Only drawback was, I had to go into the bloody place. Alone. Ecch - it was like some sort of weird Chav stomping ground - lots of uglies in tracksuits and bling poking at brands I'd never heard of before. The queue was ridiculously long, and I swear I heard one mum call her spawn to her side by the name Asbo.

Whatever next?

Half-Baked Conspiracy Theory no.1

I reckon the factory that puts the lids on glass jars must be run by an ultra Right Wing Family Values Zealot, who's trying to ensure that all woman remain dependant upon men for their whole lives. Why else would such a simple device used so regularly by womenfolk as the sauce/jam jar be so utterly impossible to be opened by the wrist of an adult female? I mean, really. I love my husband and when I married him my intention was for that relationship to be for life, but I want that to be because of mutual affection and compatabilty in the face of time & old age, not because without him I can't whip up a quick spag bol.