The lovely, petite and rather religious Northern Irish grandmother of my then wife was visiting with the grandfather. “Michael, will you look at the lovely pair of tits on the lawn” (stiffled laughter). The same visit she asks me “Michael - now tell me are you getting a good screw?” Well into his eighties grandad turns up with his dustcoat and tools to repair our bay window. He had a packed lunch.
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Re- Trump. Cancel the invitation.
Classic. I have a high regard for rats and, as I reported here some years ago, was absolutely guilt ridden when I killed one on advice that if I didn’t we would be overridden.
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I have said here somewhere before my dislike of Jaquie Lawson e-cards, much preferring a personal email from someone who feels the need, but I don’t tell people because I know that it comes from a good place.
But, just now I received an Easter card with little bunnies and deer hopping about from a friend in England who used to live here and I endur, sorry, watched, it right to the end where it said ‘Love Mum xxxxx’. 
Now, not saying that I have definitely ruled out re-incarnation, but coming from a lady who is just 2 months younger than me, is stretching it a bit. 
Still Labour controlled then despite recent woes?
Witnessed totally disgusting behaviour on the beach at Great Yarmouth yesterday; man and woman arguing in front of a load of kids, then she smacked him one on the head and it all kicked off between them. The old bill turned up and the policeman ended up using his truncheon on the bloke but the man actually managed to get the truncheon off the copper and started hitting the copper and the woman with it ! Madness…
Then a crocodile came along and stole all their sausages - what ever next?!
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Very good, but I think we have been over that one before.
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As long as it didn’t make you cross. 
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Certainly didn’t, quite the opposite, I was quite happy about it
How did I get here?
Reminds me of a spat I had with a very snooty, slightly camp young sommelier in Boston (MA not Lincs) who got upset when I told him that ‘Californian Burgundy’ was an oxymoron.
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Snotty but lacking in education, maybe? 
Pretentious young git more like.
Most Californian winemakers wouldn’t want their chardonnays to be passed off as some sort of ersatz Burgundy.
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