SUNDAY, SUNDAY

I love Sundays. It's generally the day I rest, meet up with friends, and watch some great tv. Last Sunday I was invited to have a meal with some friends over in Lytham. They live a 5 minute walk away from the beach so with suitable winter attire accessorised with a football under the arm, we all headed off for the beach and soon warmed up running around like screaming banshees. We took our rosy cheeks, bursting lungs and hamstring injuries back to D & J's flat where we were treated to an amazing Thai green curry. A few polite burps and a catch up with the Strictly Come Dancing and X Factor results shows later, and D gets the guitar out closely followed by J's saxophone and we had a Northern version of Ronnie Scott's jazz club. Never before and probably never again will I ever hear a version of 'Summertime' played so majestically. But wow, those saxophones are LOUD! They should use saxophones to unblock drains. Any fluids held in my orifices last  Sunday were soon expelled with alarming propulsion as the high notes were hit during 'Summertime... and the living is easy...'. Great evening. We've left D with some homework to practice 'Pretty Woman' by Roy Orbison in time for our next get together. 
This morning at Fishfingerbutty Towers sees the Sunday newspaper catch up followed by bacon sandwich and liberal use of my Dyson vacuum around the beige carpet. Later on I'm off with some work colleagues to Lancaster to see John Shuttleworth. He's an alternative comedian apparently which probably means I won't laugh much but it should be fun anyway. I'm going with a Social Worker and an Occupational Therapist so if John needs sectioning under the Mental Health Act, he's in good hands. Full pre-theatre pizza report and performance critique to follow....