The mandatory bank holiday weekend post

Yeah, Yeah, you all want to hear about the bank holiday weekend. You want to know about the mini beer festival in the Red Cow, the way my brother's mates ate all the cheese in the house, how come we were drinking sake while finding out exactly how many channels on Sky turn into soft porn after midnight, and Jim's unusual and tasteless use of Jenga bricks. You want to know about more of my brother's dreams, about how I declared my love to a friend over the weekend, about the chickencake Anne got for her birthday, about how the jazz on the riverside green attracted many of our parents to come out and boogie (and sit in the camp chairs we'd manhandled down there). You want to hear gossip about boyfriends, their car and how well they maneuvered them up my parents' driveway. A few of you want to know about promised posts from before the weekend. Some of you even want to know about Parker.

Well, eventually some of this will be addressed, mostly in an oblique way. Until then I leave you with this quote from my brother while he was playing online poker:

There's a lot of willy-waving going on, so I'm only going to play if I've got the nuts.
Have I mentioned he's occasionally known as The Regular Smut?

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