I know I’ll get a kick for this but in true blonde style and to outdo herself Mrs Fogg pulls off another one.
A little while back when we had the Caddies over we went to the local airfield and museum, on the way out Mrs Fogg saw a young man waving like the clappers at her blue car, when she realised she instructed us to wind the window up to stop him climbing in, much to the amusement of Mrs Caddie.
Tonight on the way to a lovely restaurant Mrs Fogg saw a young man running down the road with his arms flapping like a duck, to which Mrs Fogg started to say look he’s flapping his arms like that bloke at the airfield, only to have to eat her words when she realised.
So Mrs Fogg does the regular Sainsbury order to get our food and er hem, alcoholic beverage delivered. But for some strange reason struggles to work out “cl” or “ml” on a bottle of falling down water.
This evening I was supposed to meet Mr Fogg at the local pool for a brief swim after work. When he didn’t show I thought, ok, it’s been a long day, I’ll see him at home.
Spotted walking round the canals of North Yorkshire (the lesser flooded canals that is).
For those wondering what the title is all about (obscure reference I know), it is in reference to a line at the end of Pulp Fiction. And why I hear you ask, well to explain when we moved back to the flat cap and wippet land from the land of sheep, I bought Sasha the canary yellow commuter scooter (with me so far, good). After a year I took a real mans bike lesson and took the leap to a proper bike, ZED (the last 3 letters of it’s number plate an the reason I bought it).
tWas Mrs Foggy’s bathday today she is xxyears old. Apparently I am not allowed to say that this is her 21st birthday for the 18th time.
Tenuous link here, but Jobby aka the head of Apple computers (apple geddit), since I have upgraded my ailing iPhone 3G (which had gone to snail mode since installing iOS4) to the uber soopa iPhone4, now we is talkin!!!
Sometimes we travel all over the world only to find the most perfect view direct from our back garden. A perfect summers night just outside York.
Ah June miss ya (I knew a woman called June once) and now we is into Julie (I knew a Julie too but nowhere near as hot as a June), anyhoooo I digress. so tis the secundus of June and a nice hot summer (well for England) fussball is over (not predictable really) and now we are getting set for winter (depressing or wot). But whilst the nights are nice me and the Mrs are happily having fun with our Monster BBQ , booze and chillin after very long hard weeks. I am doing 50 hour weeks and the Mrs is not far behind at 48 hours, is it worth it, errr NO!