Just to clarify: my flat-mate, father-figure, and personal chef, David, will be unable to cater at my dinner party as he is currently struggling through a week-long ski expedition across Iceland's biggest glacier in freak weather conditions.
He is due back on Thursday but I'm not really expecting him as he is probably dead.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
archive
- August 2011 (1)
- July 2011 (2)
- June 2011 (15)
- May 2011 (9)
- April 2011 (19)
- March 2011 (19)
- February 2011 (17)
- January 2011 (2)
- December 2010 (2)
- November 2010 (1)
- October 2010 (3)
- September 2010 (2)
- July 2010 (3)
- June 2010 (3)
- April 2010 (1)
- February 2010 (2)
- January 2010 (2)
- September 2009 (1)
- August 2009 (4)
- July 2009 (4)
- June 2009 (3)
- May 2009 (8)
- April 2009 (11)
- March 2009 (12)
- February 2009 (9)
- January 2009 (4)
- December 2008 (10)
- November 2008 (27)
- October 2008 (21)
- September 2008 (12)
- August 2008 (9)
- July 2008 (11)
- June 2008 (5)
- May 2008 (5)
- April 2008 (12)
- March 2008 (10)
- February 2008 (11)
- January 2008 (15)
- December 2007 (10)
- November 2007 (9)
- October 2007 (3)
- September 2007 (9)
- August 2007 (8)
- July 2007 (10)
- June 2007 (13)
- May 2007 (14)
- April 2007 (11)
- March 2007 (11)
- February 2007 (12)
- January 2007 (9)
- December 2006 (4)
- November 2006 (10)
- October 2006 (8)
- September 2006 (12)
- August 2006 (19)
- July 2006 (22)
- June 2006 (7)
- May 2006 (25)
- April 2006 (18)
- March 2006 (5)
- April 2004 (1)
- November 1998 (1)
- March 1980 (1)
Somebody just pointed out to me that expecting David to be dead, or at least joking about it, is a bit harsh.
ReplyDeleteBut don't worry, it's not. We had a big hug just before he left, in case it was our last one, and he said that if he did die, he had left me his desk. Which I found a bit strange, as he doesn't seem to have a desk. Then I realised he'd said "debts".
And I was probably exaggerating about the weather conditions being "freak". It's probably just raining a bit.