Some girls do

A super-lazy day. When you don't have to get up, I see no reason to do so.

We'd left lots of stuff at Beths' house last Friday so she came round to deliver it. I don't get Beth very often but when I do, she's a calming influence and we generally like to draw, cut and stick. This time we also read the news.
Starting with the weather forecast, we described how nice it was going to be. Then followed a succession of tragic headlines about death ("Today a child was killed on the motorway when.....", "This afternoon a consignment of poo caused a bridge to collapse killing 3 and seriously maiming 25 others....."). But it wasn't all bad. Every good news broadcast contains a sports roundup which went as follows:

In the football: England 2000, Wales 10,000.

In the rugby: Italy 2, Wales 2.
Bud got home having finally fixed the car key (new battery and code reset) so we can get in it without the alarm going off. We nipped over the road and swiped some wood from the skip outside the pub, but the painting of the nude reclining girlie had been snatched by someone else so our opportunity to burn her was gone.
All was not lost, however, as Bens' arrival interrupted even more rubbish kids TV. He has a new light sabre, the one that Darth Maul uses - the double ender and a snip at £12. I fought him with a few, several, or more of my own bladed weapons and we visited the park to climb, attack our chaperone and go in the swinging basket. He says he likes girls that kiss girls, like the ones in his Dads' films. We may be a couple of old swingers with a double-ended weapon but the basket still makes us scream.
After a lovely roast chicken dinner, I got super-excited at bedtime, burped, and threw up my supper, as is my way.