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I’ve always dreamed that this exact picture would appear in the Daily Express. Me smiling happily, whilst a large man behind me starts fiddling with his bits and is possibly about to expose himself and ask me to perform a sex act on him. I was hoping it would be a candid photo and not a composite and am disappointed that it’s only happening because of testicular cancer, but I can die a happy man. And yes, this will hopefully be the picture that accompanies my obituary.
Phew only 42% of France voted for the far right candidate. Plus all the ones who couldn’t be bothered to vote to keep her out. What an incredibly reassuring statistic. Yeah sure Macron isn’t the best politician in the world either, so no point in voting to keep out the far right. Remember when the Nazis actually occupied your country? No, probably not.
The kids were having a sleep over at their grandparents last night, so even though I woke up early as usual, I was able to go back to sleep and that made a huge difference to our fractured word of exhaustion. I even managed to go for a run this morning - only 4km, but it didn’t feel too bad. I’ve let the diet and the exercise slip, but only because of work and illness - so am hoping I can get things back on track. We had assumed Ernie was over the chicken pox after a week and his spots crusting over, but he came back from his grandparents feeling itchy and he’s got a second wave of the pox. This is sort of good news, because I was worried that the first go had been a bit too light and might mean he was susceptible to get it in the future, but is bad news mainly as he’s finding it hard to deal with the itching and it’s another week off school for him (though that’s mainly bad news for us). It’s just been constant plague one way or another in this house in 2022 (and to be fair 2021 wasn’t a walk in the park for me either). I look forward to the distant day when every single one of us is well.
My daughter has started painting stones, which as you can imagine leaves me with mixed feelings. On the one hand she’s very good at art (certainly far superior to me already) but on the other hand those stones have been taken off the field or beach where they belong and all the rules of Stone Clearing have been contravened. She has been selling the stones to us for a pound (she said she’d do one for me for Father’s Day and only charge 10p) even though we bought the stones in the first place. She’d done a four part series where a ship sailed off on a sunny day, the clouds starting forming, there was a storm and then there was no ship, which I said she should keep together, but she sold a couple of them and then couldn’t shift the other two. I told her she could paint something on the other side and give her customers a choice as to which side she displayed. She could charge £1.50 for those. She’s taken this on board and is already getting orders from other family members. So using the Tory principle of running a business that has been paid for by your parents and sells stuff to your family at inflated prices she should become a great stone/art magnate.
But they are so good that I am happy to pay for them. I got one of a fly with an umbrella today, which is like something Magritte might have done. In hindsight maybe I should have gone for the spider - I like the detail of the flies in the web.
Of course if she goes on to be a world famous artist the joke is on her as I will make a killing for my 150pence investment. For now she has a licence to print money and we have a licence to spend money. If only I knew of a free source of stones.
