OK so I have managed to set this 'ere blog area up all by my own self! Beats Eurovision and I have wine which means that even if it is crap, it will be great!
I must say, Saturday nights have changed since I was a kid, which is a very good thing. These days the likes of Noel Edmonds and Mr Blobby covered in suspicious "gunk" with Z list celebrities arriving via a loud doorbell, are, but heady dreams in the minds of only the very hard-core porn lovers amongst us. I won't bore you with irritating "I remember the days when..." type rubbish as, frankly, those that can remember the late eighties and early nineties probably don't want, or need to be reminded. For those of you that don't remember them, there is Wikipedia and Google. One thing I do miss from Saturday evenings all those years ago is the comforting knowledge that Monday brought with it, at worst, a couple of hours of maths with boys that smelled mildly of BO and a teacher obsessed with political correctness: I'm sure we all remember "Ahmed, Raj, Muhammed and Susan are in a sweet shop" type maths scenarios. These days, Mondays represent a reality so depressing that in order to make it through, one can only cling to the hope that the 2 bottles of Shiraz you single-handedly polished off on Saturday night are still on offer at Tesco. Here's to Saturday nights. And absurdly good wine offers.
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