Showing posts from May, 2015

Into the Depths of Darkness

A few weeks ago you may recall that I recounted the story of Johnny Potato VC - a potato I found in the dark depths of Master Benedict's rucksack.

Now, dear readers, I must own up to being a slack mother because after discovering the potato I looked no further - I was so distraught/gobsmacked/ashamed to look any further. Until this morning. When I discovered this:

But that's not all I found. Oh no. I am afraid the contents of Master Benedict's bag were gross beyond all imagination. Everything was stuck together in a tangled mess of decomposing food, mangled paper, bottles, wrappers and some hideous gooey stuff.
Down in one corner I found this:
Oh amongst all the crap I also found this:

You know, when I lifted the door chain out of Master Benedict's bag some really terrible thoughts crossed my mind.  
Had Master Benedict mugged a granny on her doorstep? 
Was he planning to barricade himself in his bedroom and play Call of Duty for a month?
Or perhaps he planning to lock…

A Personal Picture Post

Well I don't normally do these kind of intimate posts. But today is an exception. This is because I was up in our loft room having a bit of a tidy-up and came across some old photos of me and thought Yippee-Do I can make a quick blog post of this! (Sincerity is my middle name.) 
So folks, this will be a deeply revealing pictorial post about me rather than a written one which really is rather lucky for you lot cos normally deeply revealing blog posts from writers involve hideous tales about depression, failed relationships and fifteen-year struggles to publish debut novels after twenty billion rejection letters and amputation below the knee.

Or something like that anyway.

So lets get on with it!

So there you have it. A deeply revealing post featuring some of my most photogenic shots.

Ho hum.

Hotel Horrors and Birthday Books

So after a few days break from blogging and the A to Z challenge, I'm back!

Now for some of those days I was transfixed by the TV coverage of the UK General Election, but for another three days I was at a tennis tournament with Master Benedict during which I spent two nights in a rather grubby hotel in London.

"Grubby" seems a suitable description for that hell-hole of a place. In fact, I could spend the whole blog whinging about it. Briefly; the shower only had two settings (freezing cold/scalding hot) which was made even more difficult to regulate because the handle fell off, the room keys didn't work, two of our rooms were in another building, they didn't take credit cards and (horror upon horrors) there was no bacon and tomato ketchup at breakfast. However, instead of whinging too much and boring the pants of you all I shall sum the experience with this short tale...

After discovering that the keys to the rooms didn't work, I went back to the reception wh…