What a scorcher!

Sorry to borrow a headline from the Sun. Couldn't think of anything else.

At least it wasn't the one about eating the hamster.

Still suffering and really sick of this woman pissing us about. Put the house back on the market. Cracked up about it on thursday and Husband said Enough Already!. And if we lose the house we want, then sod it, I'm miserable of being miserable - if you see what I mean. And I hear sheltered accommodation is very nice these days.

Have mixed feelings about Michael Jackson's demise. That bugger stood us up in 1992. All day long we sat in that Wembly bloody stadium and then this fat git who called himself a manager announced at 7.30, the time he was due to come on, that Michael had flu and wouldn't be appearing.

We're going to Have the Git - I think were the words me and my sunburnt mate used at the time. Had to trudge back to that shithole 3 weeks later to see him.

But I didn't know it would be THIS sort of revenge! Oh Lordy!

I really liked him at the time of Billy Jean and Thriller. He really had it on board then. None of this going white shit and bubbles the chimp. He was healthy looking, black and slim and talented. That must have been his peak now I think about it.

Went to Richmond park to do some more suffering. Photographed this old thing and told him all about the house move problems. His eyes look a little glazed as you can see.

Do they have problems with nests and nest-viewers and that? guess I'll never know.

Carry on....where?

Am at my wits end. Lady buyer was supposed to have paid for a surveyor a week ago. Have we heard anything? Have we shite? Why are they being so slow? So absolutely terrified we are going to lose the house we want. So absolutely terrified we will be stuck here forever.

And once you have the survey done, it doesn't stop there. The buyers have to ooh and aah at all the shit things in this house that need to be done. That would slow things up too.

Saw a house for sale that I've always liked up the main road. Cheered me slightly, thought we'd go and look at it. Until I looked up the price - £454,0000 - yes, I know. Three bedroom, fifties semi detached. So prices are creeping up again. Well, thats us screwed! There might be a one bedroom flat in Feltham we could afford. Am so broke up.

To comfort myself I watched Carry On Loving on BBC2. People generally slag off this film but I think its great! Nearly every line has a double-entendre! My top three are Carry On Camping, Carry On Cleo and this one...

Son walks in in the middle of it. What year was this film? , he asks. 1970 I reply. Oh, he says , are they still alive? (bless him). And everyone I point out - I realise that no, they're not.
Tell Son Charles Hawtry was an alcoholic and presumably died of drink. Sid James had a heart attack and Kenneth Williams killed himself. Don't know how any of the birds died - was too depressed to think about it by then.

By the time the credits came up, I was suicidal Syd. Bloody kids!

What a rotten sunday! Next week I'm off up to bloody Brick Lane, I tell you!

Where's that List?

Well, my day has turned successfully to shit. Bit of a bad start with a trip to the Vet this morning . Got presented with a £346 bill !!
A continuation of all the tests and shots from the last time Vet explains sweetly - oh, and a shot from this visit too. Rose had a fever - again! Otherwise he was happy with her! Oddly tho', Husband was far from happy when i gave him the bill - can't think why. Rosie lay on the vets table and purred. Well, she wasn't paying was she!

Estate Agent round here at 4 o'clock on the dot! The cheeky bugger had done a valuation already! It was all printed down on their paper. I could have extended this place into a 5 bedroomed utopia for all he knew - the presuming git. Anyway, devastated, £275,000 tops he reckons. A similiar hovel to this one down the road went for £300,000 something 2 years ago AND it didn't have a driveway like us. Still, that was 2 years ago - could well have been 200 years ago with this economic climate.

But on a good note, there's a super house nearby for sale that i've had my eye on for ages that they're representing that could well take a lesser asking price - according to assuming estate agent anyway.
So God knows. But depressed. And got another agent tomorrow - are they going to shatter my world too. I'll just offer up my wrists and give them a knife.

And then, and then, when i was battling with cooking a pasta pie (which incidentally tasted like shit!) my mate Peter, who i was going to see Slumdog Millionare with tonight, bloody phones and blows me out. At 20 past 5! I was expecting him at bloody 6! I was tarted up and everything! He had a free ticket for Mandi Patinkin instead. Bastard! I hope he sits behind someone with a big hat or a column!

My mate Peter is lovely ,he really is. I've known him since 1975 from college. And despite him being a selfish little git, i loved him and was his devoted friend. The years in-between, his selfishness thinned out but in the last 2 years or so, it has come back full force. Is it that you're selfish when you're young, then you get a bit more considerate in the next 3 decades, then approaching 50 your disregard for your friends comes back in full force! Especially ones you've known for 34 years! I mean, sod him.

Am going to really sulk tonight. And smoke and drink!