w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

Today's lyric:

"I caught a glimpse from the dreams of children
I got a feeling of optimism
But woke up to a grey and lonely picture
The streets below left me feeling dirty."

The Jam: "Dreams of children"
From the album: "Snap"

So, Mr Gadd has been convicted of 'abuse'. (I'm not going to 'honour' him with a link.)

Stood in the dock, with not very rock 'n roll shades on, he got three years, which will probably be finished by November this year. Strange, but I thought that having sex with minors was called rape? So I've learned a new Vietnamese word today.

But I do hope he's not lonely during his all-too-brief incarceration. I do hope that he has every sexual gratification that the other inmates want. And comes out with a ring the size of a bill-poster's bucket. And an ar5e with a similar volume of contents and consistency as said bucket.

That would be a fitting punishment. Not bitter, Glitter. You evil b@st@rd.

On lighter matters, me and t'Missus have made it to 33 years today. Number One Son's ex is coming to visit (seems she liked us, too?) so it's likely to be Chinese take-aways all round, with a bottle of wine or seven.

Tomorrow is a dinner party for friends, who hopefully will be bringing a potential job offer for Mrs.D.

And Sunday is her and Number One Son's birthday, so maybe another celebrationette?

And we're off next week, using up the remains of last year's holidays, chauffeuring NOS back to the deep South (West). Taking the camera, binoculars and possibly the laptop, in case there's a chance of some Cornish blogging.

So please call by, still. And enjoy your weekends in the meantime.