Moustache envy

The skip is gone, and with it the smell. I had been referring to the family 4×4 as the skip for some years as it was always full of rubbish and smelled of dog. One particularly smelly dog. That Nice Lady Decorator now has a new car, or rather a slightly newer one. The smelly old 4×4 has been part exchanged for a shiny smart and soon to be smelly newer 4×4 which, once Banjo, that infernal hound owned by the Decorating operative gets to work on it, will swiftly and surely become Smelly Skip II. Actually that sounds a bit like a Hollywood blockbuster. The newer soon-to-be-smelly skip has a special plastic base in the back, designed to impede creeping odours of all kinds but she underestimates that aromatic hounds’ ability to make anything with which he comes into contact wreak almost overnight. I give it a week before it gets the first Fabrese treatment.

The Reverend Jeff, a leading limericist in the comments section of this column (dedicated to explaining all the benefits of opening an account with Currencies Direct for all your foreign exchange transfers) made a good (or a god?) point about yesterday’s missive in which I missed a good joke about the irony of drinking Doom Bar at a wake. I told him I would nick it and I have. More and more limericks are appearing daily and I don’t know what I have done to deserve it, but as long as the occasional contributor becomes a Currencies Direct client, I will be content.

After collecting the new transport, and battling through the interminable rain to and then from Guildford, we arrived home to a pile of chewed up cardboard. The disaster dog is getting worse. This time it was a cardboard centre from a toilet roll. Clearly, he had not been able to reach the rubbish bin, now conveniently placed on top of the cooker when we go out, in a so far successful attempt to keep the horrid hound out of it.

Mr Clipboard tries on a moustache and I think it suits him

Today to celebrate the fact that we have completed the two days of fasting called for on the 5:2 diet, we shall journey to Chiddingfold to lunch with a man who could really do with a 7:7 diet. Mr Clipboard will be accompanied by his much easier on the eye blonde bombshell of a wife, Ashley and lunch will be taken this time at The Crown Inn. I don’t know why we are not going to the Swan Inn as it was superb on the previous two occasions we had visited, but as you will know, these decisions are seldom left to the men.

I am intrigued by his clear moustache envy. He had previously shown himself jealous of my long beard by orchestrating its removal some two years ago by a coterie of public school types, in a restaurant accident in the south of France. I think it must be his almost complete lack of hair in the places he would want it, and a surfeit of hair in places where he certainly would not want it that drives him in. I am talking the back, the nose, the ears and in the backs of his hands as they drag along the gutter. I know he only reads this column when he thinks he will be in it, so as we are seeing him today I did not want to disappoint him.

Then it will be the weekend and who knows what trouble lies ahead. On a need to know basis, I do not apparently need to know. So I don’t know what I don’t know. What i do know is that Peachy Butterfields northern banter blog  for Onboard-Online has been published

Chris France
@Valbonne_News