Yesterday we went to town on a mini pub crawl. Again I emptied Oxfam of cheap horror novels. Then we ate in the Old Orleans Bar and Grill, who give you crayons to scribble on the table cloth with while you wait for your food. I had a cocktail called and Alligator. There was no actual alligator in it. I dont think so anyway.
Its so HOT here at the moment. I don't do hot weather. I dont do warm weather. And I am not so keen on daylight either.
As I type there is a man in my attic mending my faulty header tank ball cock. If its hot down here, it must be volcanic up there.
AND we are off to rehearse with my band in a bit. In a box like room with no air con.
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You poor things! No air conditioning in these kinds of temps suck some major header tank ball cock! xx
ReplyDeleteOh dear, little hot boxes. Take a wet towel?
ReplyDeleteIf you take advantage of the crayon option in that Old Orleans venue, whatever you do - don't sign the masterpiece. They'll only keep it until you're famous and then sell it for a fortune on ebay.
ReplyDeleteSpookily enough your Dad spent yesterday afternoon up in our loft too - he emerged bright red, covered in dust and practically suffocated, and all for the sake of a radio aerial!