Woke up today and Man Friday informed me that Diana Ross had died. I said: 'Bloody hell, that's a shock - didn't even know she was ill' (not that she was likely to tell me anyway). So he said: 'She was the one in The Supremes, wasn't she'. So, I said, yes, and he said: 'That's her then.'
The day goes on. I work on me book, Man Friday does Man Friday stuff. My internet had temporarily carked it, so I tried to make it for the six o'clock news on teevers but never got there till 6.15, so missed the Diana Ross story.
So, I make a huge effort to make the Channel 4 news at 7pm. Hmmm. News item No. 1: Kim Jong Il is dead. Man Friday comes in and hears this and says: 'Jolly good job too,' or some such; then Jon Snow goes on to make some snarky comments about the Supreme Leader and our dear Leader.
Then, Man Friday goes: 'Oh! The Supreme Leader. That's what I heard. No wonder I thought it was Diana Ross.'
I don't know why I bother.
When I fell in the privet hedge the other week, after being head-butted into it by foster dog, Man Friday also had a mis-hear. I was only cutting the bloody privet berries off cos I read they were poisonous to dogs and bloody foster dog eats anything that isn't nailed down.
Anyhow, I land in the privet hedge which is located in the 'I must do something about this, one of these days' section of the garden i.e. it is a big mess where you chuck old grass trimmings and plant pots etc. Trouble was, I couldn't seem to get out of the shrubbery by myself and foster dog could only help by tugging on my trouser legs and biting my trainers.
So, there's me shouting out: 'Ronnie! Get orf me bleeding shoes, you little shit hound,' and 'Hello! A hand here please.' But nothing.
Turned out that Man Friday had headphones on and was recording himself playing guitar - why no one in the universe can play guitar quietly is a mystery.
So, all by myself (and with the only assistance being a large puppy pulling my trousers) I managed to roll myself over and over out of the hedge - it was a highly unpleasant business to start with but with the addition of squirrel poo, even worse.
I finally get in the house. Man Friday stops playing and shouts out to me: 'Heard you and Ronnie playing about in the garden - having a laugh?'
I give up.