For the first time in living history, we actually got the first three in the Grand National! Unfortunately, the Shah, TD and I were in the Midlands at the time, paying a visit to the Outlaws and had left TS at home, ostensibly to do some revision. His only other occupation this week has been caring for the spawn of Wags and footballers at a local kiddie camp. He has rated his experiences as follows:
Day 1: Arrives home in a towering rage and announces that the Camp Leader is not only camp (ha ha) but is also a "bell end" (shut your eyes, mother). Day rated "total f*cking shit".
Day 2: Camp Leader still camp and now a "knob" as well. Day only rated as "Shite" - improving.
Day 3: Following a stern talking to from his loving Mummy, he has now learned the art of avoiding Mr Bell-End and appearing to be busy and enthusiastic at all times. Day rated only as "shit." Better still.
Day 4: He has obviously settled in well. Likes the kids but despises fellow workers bar one. Day rated as "all right".
And so on and so on. Consequently, he was home alone and, by his own account, rolling on the floor screaming at his horse (Black Appalachi) as it was overtaken by mine (Don't Push It - yay Tony McCoy!) at the very last minute. And I only chose that horse on a whim because 'Don't Push It' sounds like something I might say on a regular basis.
So, anyway, he was feeling a bit bereft at having nobody to share the good news with so he rang me as we were en route home to share the glad tidings. Poor old TD was furious - her horse fell late on - and she earned none of our massive £29 winnings.
Well, whaddya expect for £2 each way?!
Day 1: Arrives home in a towering rage and announces that the Camp Leader is not only camp (ha ha) but is also a "bell end" (shut your eyes, mother). Day rated "total f*cking shit".
Day 2: Camp Leader still camp and now a "knob" as well. Day only rated as "Shite" - improving.
Day 3: Following a stern talking to from his loving Mummy, he has now learned the art of avoiding Mr Bell-End and appearing to be busy and enthusiastic at all times. Day rated only as "shit." Better still.
Day 4: He has obviously settled in well. Likes the kids but despises fellow workers bar one. Day rated as "all right".
And so on and so on. Consequently, he was home alone and, by his own account, rolling on the floor screaming at his horse (Black Appalachi) as it was overtaken by mine (Don't Push It - yay Tony McCoy!) at the very last minute. And I only chose that horse on a whim because 'Don't Push It' sounds like something I might say on a regular basis.
So, anyway, he was feeling a bit bereft at having nobody to share the good news with so he rang me as we were en route home to share the glad tidings. Poor old TD was furious - her horse fell late on - and she earned none of our massive £29 winnings.
Well, whaddya expect for £2 each way?!
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