WeeHee!

Tiger and I had a lovely lunch at the Bushmills Inn today in the company of Lord Belmont of Northern Ireland. The food was very good although the lads could have eaten twice as much ... actually make that three times more. We have agreed to go to Millside next time where we will need doggy bags. 
Another wee disappointment was that they couldn't make Tim and me Brandy Alexanders. We were looking forward to kicking off a late lunch with our favorite cocktail. I will email the recipe to the Inn. And one for Manhattans as they get a lot of American visitors. 
With any luck Tim will forgive me for making a mess. Why is it that when I want to make an impression I spill food on the table cloth and try to stick the fork up my nose instead of in my mouth? How the blazes does one miss a gob this size? Only moi.
He is too much of a gentleman to say, "Don't call me. I'll call you."
We had a great time. Good company is better than a fine wine.
The universe has a way of linking peeps who gel.
It is early days and I don't want to take Tim prisoner the way I do with Andy and David.
In any event I can't do it because the electric gates are fried.
So is my much loved Dell laptop. Never, ever leave a jar of strong pickles next to a Readers Digest Universal Dicionary balanced on your modem and walk away. Story of my life of monumental disasters and trail of destruction.
Tiger has loaned me his Purple Meany. He keeps looking over my shoulder to make sure I don't injure or kill it.
But this is the man who won't relinquish the remote control, even when he is asleep. The bloody dog is every bit as bad. 
Hopefully Tim will accept us for the Numpty's we are and be mates anyway.
I came home on a high.
Tiger still had the hungers, as I said. He and the Rock laid waste to two boxes of quail from Lidl.
As if the day couldn't get any better Pauline rang from the Rugby Club to tell Tiger he won THE BALL ... SIGNED BY NONE OTHER THAN WILLIE JOHN McBRIDE ET AL.
I am going to sleep with it.
HAPPY HAPPY DAY