Some People May Feel That I'm Boring

It's a strange thought, but this past week spent on annual leave have really hit home that the life I lead is a rather boring one to say the least.  I wish to goodness that I didn't have to plan things quite so comprehensively, but I do and there's very little I can do about it. 

On the plus side, I was in the Co-op earlier (utilising my 'spend £7 and save £1 coupon) where I saw Barry, the shop assistant I mentioned a couple of weeks ago.  Anyway, he enquired why I hadn't attended the 'Fundraising Funday' and when I replied that I'd suddenly developed an aversion to having stickers placed directly onto my torso he was sympathetic, stating that he'd been unable to look a charity cup cake in the face after he'd choked on a mini red nose during Comic Relief 2011.  Anyway, the upshot is that he's asked me out for lunch on Monday, which is his day off and readers, I accepted.  Oh my sainted Aunt, what on earth have I let myself in for? 

'Stinky' Great Uncle Syd

I know that you're supposed to respect your elders, but it's really difficult at times, I can tell you.  Take for example, my Great Uncle Syd - I mean, he's a respected man in the South London Scrabble League, but otherwise he's obtuse, irritating and worst of all, tight as a gnat's chuff.  He turned up at 10:33am this morning clutching a large bag of his washing, a half-empty bottle of Woodpecker Cider and a tatty old tea towel with 'Come To Skegness: It's Bracing' emblazoned on it.  Lovely.  He is currently relaxing against my velour cushions on the sofa and has left the toilet seat up twice.  Yuck.

He departs in two hours and five minutes: wish me luck.  I wish he wouldn't bring VHS copies of Up The Elephant And Round The Castle to my house - I really detest Jim Davison and his oevre.