Poor Mans' Friday

What I particularly liked about this Thursday was that was a Friday. Tomorrow is a designated day off due to an Incisor Day, dedicated to Luis Suarez who we all agree should have been banned for 2 years. Personally I reckon that the next opposing team manager should say that due to the health and safety of his players, Suarez can only play if all his teeth are removed or he has to wear a hockey goalkeepers' mask, like those dangerous dogs.
Well I was just sitting upstairs having a mock battle with my Lego collection when the phone went and it was Nanna saying that of the 20 other inmates in her temporary rest home facility with hot and cold running nurses, the only one she can have a coherent conversation with is the mirror because all the others are barking, quacking, hootling or just plain mad.
Then the other phone call was Bobert inviting me round to eat his birthday cake.
This one was a no-brainer and I am not casting aspersions for I have run out of them. I scooted round, narrowly avoiding a rainstorm. Bob has many new presents including a stunt scooter, massive goalkeeping gloves and a Tivo box.

He found it difficult to operate the remote control wearing the gloves but gradually we settled down: he watched Planes and Simpsons and the Argentina match and we did loom-weaving and I learned some groovy techniques off Erin who reckons her mum is old and lame but is really good at that kind of thing and anyway we all feel that way about the elderly ie over 15.
His birthday cake was tall and chocolatey but the tour de force de coup de grace was the icing which was a seascape of rough conditions with assorted Lego-alike surfers having trouble staying upright. Bob blew out his candle and we all pigged on calorie-rich surfers.