It is indeed good to know that there are some people out there with even more idle time than me, and that they gainfully use that time to read this stuff. Hello there, Mike Bryars, long time no see! Jeff, Matt, John, hi there fellas. Sad, sad lives you all lead!
But lets get back to the soap! Yes, it is still on, despite some hazardous moments. There was a certain amount of lubrication needed, of course but Messrs. Visa and Mastercard took care of that. The child bride, it turns out, is a voracious shopper. I am actually suffering from credit card meltdown. And still reeling from the effects. To give you an example, we went into one store, to buy a pair of shoes for the waif. Shoes duly tried by the bakers dozen and finally selected after a fair bit of strutting in front of a mirror. In the time it took me to pay for the painstakingly selected pair, and therefore whilst my back was turned on her momentarily, she managed to select another pair of shoes and a handbag. In thirty seconds flat. I didn't dare turn my back when paying for the second lot. I sort of flicked Mr. Visa over the shoulder and looked the child bride down and away from the shelves. We also went to replace her mobile phone which had given up the ghost a while ago. Now, most of the time, you or I go to buy a phone, we sort of know what we want...200 memory positions; wow! Sends e-mails; great 6 day battery; yippee, and so on. Not so with my bride. Couldn't care less about SMS capability, memory, price or size. Colour screen, colour of the phone, and yes she did want to try three phones. Not for signal strength or clarity of voice. To see which one looked better in the mirror as she feigned a conversation on each. And, surprise, surprise, the one that looks best in her hand whilst posing in front of the mirror is the most expensive model available.
Anyway, I needed some serious alcohol therapy after the murder in the mall. It just so happens that Basher Davis is in town from Gothenberg in Sweden, reliving some of his past glory as a Mayflower boy, which must be a compliment to a man of 60 summers. He brought an apprentice with him, Mike, nice guy, more later. Basher batted a hefty yang to my ying and we drowned the shopping centre blues in Absolut, mine neat, his limed and sugared. Forgot the rest of that day but quite certain didn't propose to anyone. Must be learning a lesson of sorts. The next day, I think, but might have been the previous day, or any day, for that matter, Vitus popped in with the pater and mater as well as the inseparable Alek and Ashley. Mater nice lady and cannot be blamed for Vitus's looks. The father on the other hand has to take the whole blame, as Junior is the spitting image of Daddy, all the way down to the well groomed beer belly. And thanks a million for the lovely dinner at Vento BBQ. I hope you managed to get through the 720 beers at the beach!
Christmas eve and a fair few bevvies as the season deserves, followed by the excellent Christmas dinner on Christmas Day prepared by Luc, assisted by David Gilman, who tried and tried and tried but couldn't set the kitchen afire. Andy Hunt's rendition of the "Twelve Days of Christmas" alternative version will remain the low point of the day, despite the amusement factor. A flying visit by the ubiquotous Gino who coffed the pudding, collared some wine and port and left without paying! That's a real Italian for you!
On the feast of St. Stephen, (Absolut John's birthdat, happy birthday John!) the child bride and I, escorted by Basher Davis and Mike, trekked all the way to Búzios, to make camp with the Ryan legions assembled there. Poor Big John, all that way and no-one to play with! Well. we solved that problem! A bit too well, I should imagine, for after four nights copious drinking (cognac, of all things, for one whole night! Thanks for picking up that bill, Mike.) La Ryan was, I'm sure, quite happy to see the back of us, especially with the arrival of Vidette, BJ's sister, alterego and coordinator, to keep her company. At last count, there were Vidette, Petí, Beth, Yasmin, Paula, yes, that would be 5 women, and John. Poor fella. I should have sent the child bride back and stayed. Not for the tens and TDFs on the beaches and in town at night, of course, but out of a sense of solidarity with an outnumbered mate.
Couldn't. Child bride's birthday was the 30th (as was Videttes; happy birthday, Vid!) and we had to come back to a child bride party with child bride friends, lots of bubbly (cheers, Basher) and just about anything to drink, as long as it has a strawberry in it! Which ramped things up nicely for the New Year bash, well attended, fun night with absolutely anything to drink, with or without strawberries. Elliot Harman, ex-spinster of this parish and a sometime frequenter of gay clubs arrived bearing beans and tea and plied me with enough Absolut to float the Titanic. Therefore, New Year's Day was a bit of a wipeout. We had a few for Basher and Mike, now departed, and a bit of bubbly with Vitus pater and mater who also left to the cooler airs of Skando-Condo somewhere.
And, can you believe it? Alek caught the disease and got engaged! Poor bugger, better learn to hide that credit card!
