applecheeks

I think they've definitely got the right idea when it comes to seasonal merriment. My dentists.

After coming off worse with a mouthful of granola, I decided I had better make a visit. A large bit of tooth had come free so I really had little choice in the matter.

So yesterday was D Day. One new filling, one replacement filling and a crown for my broken one. Dreading the experience I entered to find the ladies on reception in a very festive mood. So festive in fact that they tugged out a tray of booze from somewhere and asked if I would like a glass of festive cheer before I entered the inner sanctum.

A couple of glasses of port later I was feeling considerably more receptive to half an hours drilling. I won't go as far as saying I enjoyed the experience but it certainly made me quite relaxed.

I think booze should be offered to patients at all times of the year, what a great idea. I have to go back on Christmas eve to have the crown (some kind of gold coloured affair he tells me, very gangster) and I'm hoping maybe they'll be even more in the mood and might perhaps offer me a pipe of crack to smoke or similar.

This morning I was given a late late birthday present. A signed copy of Charley Boormans' new book, By Any Means!

Hooray!

I think I might love Charley Boorman a little bit. I think quite a lot of men do. A friend of mine wants to grow his hair into an unruly mop just like Charleys unruly mop.

I suppose its all about escapism. About being a bit posh and devil may care and apparently unhindered by the everyday constraints we face.

Whatever. He wished me a happy birthday and added a smiley face.

Likes: Stealth-running round the cold, silent, dark, dank park, arms pumping and maw gaping.

Dislikes: Everything else.

Which foods do you eat a lot of? Too much of? 
Submitted by Allishandra.

Garibaldi biscuits.

A large bluebottle became lodged in my helmet. I could feel it flexing and attempting to buzz next to my eye. Luckily it flew out.

I kissed an Italian man.

What movie cliché would you most like to live out in real life? 
Submitted by Wes.  

Waking up and finding a severed horses head in my bed.

"Don't ever do that in front of your parents".

That's what my cousin said after he witnessed me 'revving' Bobby.

Let me talk you through the process of Bobby revving.

Upon my return from work, Bobby and I enjoy an half hour or so of cat-love. This involves a decent amount of straight forward stroking, shoulder carrying, idle chat and more often than not a thorough going over with the brush. if I'm in the mood, I'll let him fight with my socks.

But what we both enjoy best is the revving.

I get down on my knees, leaving them slightly apart. Bobby then crawls into the space between my legs until his face reaches my ankles. When I feel his whiskers tickling my feet I lower my bum down creating a snug 'cave'. This leaves Bobby's bum and erect tail poking out between my thighs. I grasp Bobby's tail and in a firm hand over fist action 'rev' it  for up to five minutes or until one of us collapses exhausted. It is mutually rewarding for us both.

In the spring we could work up quite an alarming amount of static, which I would discharge by gripping the cat and jabbing him at the radiator.

So yes, I am forbidden to rev Bobby should my parents visit which is a shame I think.

What other names did your parents consider for you?

Eugene.

I wouldn't have minded.

I have been perturbed for the last week or so.

Not last weekend but the weekend before I became horribly influenced of the bottle which left me feeling rather out of sorts on Sunday. Time shifted uncomfortably. At some point during that day I was doubtlessly slumped in front of the tellingvision in a great twitching heap. Whilst slipping in and out of this semi-coma I THOUGHT I witnessed a woman having an affair with a lobster. I couldn't really be sure. I've had a Thing about lobsters for quite a while now. And the main image scuttling round in my mind the next day was of a lobster frolicking in a bath with a naked lady. She had hold of the lobster as he playfully slapped at the water with his tail. Or rear flipper. Frankly I was concerned that reality and the awful machinations of my mind were blending and morphing. Was I only a few steps away from the padded cell?

Fortunately yesterday I once again witnessed the woman and the lobster in a Heineken advert. Thank goodness for that.