Yes, by the process of default I am back with Wilf and to prove it he's lolling on the sofa watching the VH1 Saturday Night 80s Disco programme I recorded last night. So, am I happy? Well, I guess so, yes - it's very much a case of better the devil you know and of course, I'm not referring to the Stock, Aitken and Waterman track which has been admirably covered by Kylie and Steps. Mother is returning to the UK next week to take full advantage of the free NHS hip replacement she's due; to be fair though, Mother paid her taxes for many years, so she's entitled to at least 47% of her body to be replaced by the year 2020.
Wilf now works as a peripatetic tour guide, which is nice for him I suppose. He's kind of popular in the Derbyshire region if that makes any sense. Since leaving the civil service he's not really made that much progress, despite asking the bank for a series of loans to fund various business ventures such as starting his own honeybee colony in Gants Hill, building a fibreglass spaceship in nearby rented garage to rival the Virgin Galactic craft and last, but not least, running all nude bus tours in his Routemaster Bus, Mavis. Actually, the last one was vetoed by the Preservation of Routemaster Bus Upholstery Society because it posed danger to the 1950s synthetic fibres caused by sweaty dewflap syndrome, something suffered by a whole host of transport and nudity fans.
I do appreciate his company though and he's very neat and tidy, which is a lovely trait in this day and age. His mother used to chase him around the house with a damp cloth, so he's always appreciated a spick and span environment. However, when he visits my cousin Eleanor's house he always informs me that he's keen to bring his own dustbuster and polish along to make him feel more comfortable in her somewhat messy and chaotic household.
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