Firstly, I’d like to congratulate Mr and Mrs Parker on their wonderful wedding that took place at the weekend. You are wonderful people and I wish you all the best on your honeymoon in that there France place. Also, I hope I didn’t upstage the bride too much with my utter rocking of the kilt. I’m usually a pretty humble guy, too modest and self-effacing to big myself up too much, but man I looked good in a skirt. Obviously everyone else looked good too, you just looked slightly less shiny than me.
Don’t feel bad though. I went back to looking like Adrian Edmondson’s scruffy stunt double immediately afterwards.
So, in summary, yay the Parkers.
Secondly (or B, I forget) I would like to apologise to anyone I talked to at the wedding (I’m talking mainly to you James and Smithy (who is looking entirely too much like royalty these days)). See, I’m not a social animal. I’m more of a ‘sit in the back of the bar and drink myself back in time’ kind of animal, and am entirely out of my depth in anything more public than a supermarket queue. I have no conversational skills and no small talk. I usually just open my mouth and let crap just dribble out of my face, meaning that in conversational situations, such as those one might find at a wedding, I wind up spouting a lot of bollocks, mainly comprised of sentences that end in “…so……”.
So, if anyone attempted to have a conversion with me and I appeared to be missing a burly nurse with a lovely jacket that buckles at the back or a nobel prize and that bird from Labyrinth hanging off my arm, that’s why and I’m sorry. You are all lovely, lovely people, it’s just that I’m a social toddler.
I’ll be back next week with a proper tirade, against Hollywood no less.
Until then, be good. And if you can’t be good, be careful. And if you can’t be careful, make sure you leave your engine running.