Camps, gigs, beers and poo

Well, yesterday was an odd day. It's strange not having the two older children about, but sort of peaceful too. I didn't really get up until about 11, I rang for a wedding (ceremonial campanology earns me a crisp tenner, to boot! Imagine, with an average of a wedding every second weekend, I could manage to earn about £250 a year, if it weren't for the cost of ropes) and then a man came around who wanted some hardcore.

He took me up to Haldon's illegal traveller site where we dumped the bricks into the quagmire which was surrounding his van.

I must say, it pleases me to give the hardcore to someone who needs it like this, rather than to someone who wants the bricks for a barbecue or the hardcore for under a patio.

Then in the evening we took the smallest Manley to see Amber Fisher supporting Thief at the Prospect. It was a little loud for the smallest one (they have delicate ears, donchaknow?) so we ended up sitting outside for most of the gig, but it was a most pleasant evening.

I also got chatted up in the gents. When I went in there was a man who was the dead spit of a young Donald Southerland (although he clearly was aiming for this, with bleached hair and the right clothes) with a camera, which he swiftly hid away. Another chap then came out of the cubicle and they left together. That was odd, thinks Manley, but then the second chap comes back and stands at the urinal as if urinating, but instead engages My Lordship in conversation of a suggestive nature.

I, naturally, did not bite (I am a married man) but one thing stuck in my head from this encounter (which otherwise was only really unusual because his mate looked so much like a film star). which was that he complimented me on looking 'like that bloke out of Flow'.

I don't know what Flow is. Is it a band, is it a film, please, someone, let me know. I am a vain sort and need to find out who it is I am supposed to look like.

Anyway, that was all yesterday and now I weigh 189.6lbs in my pants.

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I am having a poo
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Blimey! That was a big'un. Sorry, not normally so graphic. Anyway, what do I weigh? *toddles off towards the scales*

You know, all this weight loss makes me hungry. Still, I have to go to the tip to get rid of my old cooker first, before I can eat. I weigh 188.3lbs (still in my pants - £5 for two pairs boxers from Tesco) and have to admit to being a bit disappointed that it was only a 1.3lb poo. This is not the way to drop a dress size.

I suppose that, if I want larger poos (and thus to lose more weight) then I need to start eating more.