Wimbledon

Today is the first day of the greatest tennis tournament on earth and I will be at work and that is a first. But I'm going to make sure that my new Boombox (see above) is switched off and Henry's telly is switched on because no way am I going to miss it.
So as I have breakfast I'll be hoping that by the time I arrive Henry will have already fled the castle because I cannot waste precious ball time listening to his post-wine, post-weekend rants.

I mentioned just now that I had a new Boombox, otherwise known as a portable cd player/radio, it's a funny little silver thing with bug eyed speakers, I need it because I want to dance around the kitchen at Henry's. So that's another reason why I hope he's scarpered I don't wish to dance again with the dodgy legged ex-mayor.

So Wimbledon...
No Rafa Nadal just endless speculation about Andy Murray. And if the tetchy, lanky, long faced, miserable tyke does manage to get to the final it'll be unbearable.
But I'll watch.




Another big event coming up in 6 days...