I certainly don't remember Melissa trying to wake me up because she wasn't feeling well, and I definitely don't remember her vomiting two or three times. I had a great nights sleep, in fact, and awoke bright eyed and bushy tailed at about 8:30.
Melissa awoke at about 9:30, noticed it was a lovely day and bundled us out the front door and up to her mum and dads house.
Once there I rapidly became bored, as I don't like sunbathing or anything like that. Melissa's mother noticed this and when it became apparent I wouldn't be climbing a ladder with a chainsaw to cut down the massive conifer bushes, or climbing up the side of the house with a shovel to rid it pesky ivy, she suggested I burn some stuff.
So I did.
I think she regretted not taking the washing in.
After the box was burned, and some catalogues, news papers and other crap, I lit the barbecue. My intestines are not at all pleased with my food intake this week. It's mainly been burgers, sausages and cheese. Everything a growing tapeworm needs. The lovely Goughs joined us for the festivities and we had a great afternoon in the sunshine.
A little after 5:45pm we headed out to Manchester for this :
That says "Paul Simon". We met my parents there and had a brief chat then went into the lobby, bumped into Peter Kaye (we really did. I didn't believe Melissa when she said "that's Peter Kaye!" so went back to check, and it really was!). We then took out (excellent) seats. It was a fantastic 2hr and 15 minute gig, full of old songs and new songs. His band were incredibly tight and very talented. There was a great atmosphere. Not even the coked up Mancunian arseholes behind us could ruin it. I even genuinely shed a tear when I heard the opening accordian of Boy In The Bubble.
Afterwards, we found the car and headed home. It's cooled down considerably, but it's still warm. Monday tomorrow. Melissa is off, I'm not. What are the odds of a good nights sleep tonight?
See you tomorrow! I can still taste the gripe water, by the way.
