ive just found out the job that my dad has returned from is for a certain bare-chested, big wig. mmmmmmmm. why do they seem to have no taste? i know taste is very personal, and i shouldnt mock, what makes my taste any better then someone elses? but bloody hell, blinged up or what. does more mean better? does gold mean richer? does bigger mean flashier?
poor darling, dad was out in the middle of no-where. starving hungry, as he didnt change up his pounds, although he had dollars he couldnt spend them. eventually he managed to chow down on some soup. two days of loneliness. watched over with machine gunned officials. he even said there was a concentration camp type tower overlooking the mansion with guards manning the grounds. my, oh my what does he get himself into!!!
reminds me of the time we got shot at in spain in the seventies. well slight exaggeration there. the late seventies we were camping in spain, at the end of the season, (by the way i cant even remember, only from stories others have told me), when the bandits (or banditoes as i called them at three years old) came down from the hills. there were only a few of us in the camp, the police were told to 'shoot to kill' so there they were have a wild west shoot out over the top of our little caravan. us laying on the floor, hoping a bullet wouldnt shot through and hit us. it didnt, we lived to tell the tale.