Sorry! Forgot on last post to tell you about the Betty Crocker business. Here goes:
About 8 months back we had Man Friday's little brother and sister over and they (being 7 and 11) wanted to make Betty Crocker cakes. So, after my kitchen looks like the Fall of Carthage and the Betty Crocker frosting makes it look like a dirty protest in Strangeways, we have a tidy up and put the remaining cake frosting in the fridge.
Forgot all about it.
8 months later, Man Friday's searching around for something to add some voomph to the vanilla ice-cream. He hunts around the fridge, finds the old Betty Crocker Frosting. I said: 'Cor, we should've chucked that out months back.'
Meanwhile, he's opening it up, sticking his finger in it and before I can say: 'Botulism', he's already eating a dollop of it!
'You know what,' he says, 'There's bloody well nothing wrong with it.'
I say: 'After 8 months, mate, you're probably eating a completely different life-form.'
Finally, he gets me to have a try of it. And do you know what? There really was nothing wrong with it whatsoever! I tell you, whatever's in that bloody Betty Crocker they ought to be putting in face-cream: I'd buy it like a shot.
Oh yes. Went to shops and some old geezer about 85yrs old stops me in the strasse and says: 'Hello! How are you doing?'
Well, I didn't know him from Adam, but you've got to be polite. So, I had: 'Oh hello! Lovely to see you again.' After all, he wasn't wearing any glasses and could have thought I was his niece or something.
So then he says to me: 'Are you still drinking and smoking?' - which seemed a bit suss, but I humoured him and said: 'You know me, same as ever, whatever keeps your spirits up,eh?'
And THEN he says to me: 'What about sex?' At which point I choked on my own spit and said: 'Hah! Given that all up at my age,' and started to move away.
THEN, as I'm moving off he only says (get this): 'Ah, you haven't been coming round my house lately, that's why your love life's gone off the boil, ha, ha!'
Well, I never. 85yrs old. Who knew he had a grain of testosterone left - dirty old sod.
Will tell you about rude old lady tomorrow - am heading orf to the drinks cabinet, maties!