Too long now?

This is my six hundredth blog!

To celebrate, I’m going to try to smash my record for ‘longest blog entry’ by writing more than 600 words. I can’t guarantee it will be inspired or even interesting, but writing six hundred words feels like a nice way to celebrate writing six hundred blogs, so please stay with me.
Ready? Here we go….

Philippa wants us to have a ‘vegetarian day’ once a week. Increasingly, aspects of my life seem to be preceded by the phrase ‘Philippa wants us to..‘
I love her, but I don’t want to become one of ‘those men’ who simper in the background of life while their wives stroll around making all the decisions and speaking on his behalf by starting everything with “WE like this..“ or “WE don’t do that..“
I’d rather be lonely and bitter than dominated and passive.

I think I might have haemorrhoids again. I did a shit this morning that felt like it was made of barbed wire.

I’ve been looking at lots of clips of drummers on YouTube, to try and pick up some tips. It strikes me that drummers fall into one of two categories - they’re either insane drug addicts in their twenties, or long-haired drunks in their fifties. And whichever category they fall into, they are always very sweaty.

I’m already sick of TV adverts that mention Christmas. We haven’t even had Hallowe’en yet and already they’re trying to induce panic-buying. I’ve decided that, in protest, I will no longer purchase any products from any company that uses the ‘C-word’ in its advertising during October. So Argos, B&Q, Toys-R-Us, Disney Home Entertainment and Tesco - you can all go **** yourselves; I’m shopping elsewhere.

That MUST be 600 words, mustn’t it?
Give me a few seconds to check….
No, it isn’t.
On we go….

Beryl is trying to persuade Ted to re-new their wedding vows. She says they’re both getting on in years and they don’t know how long it will be before one of them suffers ill health, and it would be nice to have one more romantic day to celebrate their love before a stroke or dementia means they can’t even recognise each other any more. I think that’s how she put it. She’d been at the cooking sherry while baking in a hot kitchen so she was red-faced and slurring quite a bit. Ted replied with his usual verbosity and told her he’d rather ‘face the boche again than go through that effing marriage twaddle’
It’s a nice idea but I can’t see it happening.

What else can I tell you? October has been behaving like Spring. I’m still walking round in a short-sleeved shirt. Back in August I was wearing jumpers. Who says our climate is ridiculous?

The LoveMachine is running like a gem.
It eats petrol like a woman eats chocolate, but apart from that it’s perfect. Even Philippa has warmed to it a little (especially when she‘s too pissed to drive home and asks me for a lift.) She thinks it would look better with some sunflower stickers stuck to the bumpers, but she is very much mistaken. She tells me that ‘accessorising your car makes it more personal and much more fun to drive.’ When I disagree, she says I should try it before I discard the idea out-of-hand. I assure you this is one occasion where my love for her and my determination to please her is going to lose out to common sense.

And no celebratory blog of mine would be complete without a celebratory haiku:

Six hundred blogs done
I’ve changed, and will change again,
but the blog goes on..

I don’t care if that’s 600 words or not. I’m bored now, and I’m going for a drink.

RC 14-10-11