Friday night saw me on taxi duty, collecting three rather inebriated ladies from the middle of Brixham where they had been the last to leave the pub by some distance.
Mrs H failed to recognize the car while Nanna and Debbie sat in the back and giggled.
They think I'm the perfect gentleman, but had one of them chucked Cherry B or whatever over my upholstery they might have seen a different side of me.
Saturday night was Cheese Night at the Fangios, and we didn't watch a single minute of Eurovision.
The Fangios had challenged us to scour the cheese shops and come up with something unusual. We thought we had done reasonably well with a couple of French examples, one of which was so runny that it turned to liquid the minute the rind was cut.
Elmer, however, excelled himself with something that looked, so a medical man said, like a gangrenous wound wrapped in clingfilm. It certainly smelled profoundly unpleasant, and was comfortably the winner of the Eurovision Pong Contest. We all ate a piece just for bravado and it was indeed vile, although not quite as bad as we feared.
Mrs H almost collapsed on the spot with the horror of it, but she survived and perked up remarkably when Elmer's cheesecakes put in an appearance.
Feeling somewhat the worse for cheese, I drove to Wembley on Sunday for the BSP play-off final in which Torquay United beat Cambridge 2-0.
I did the usual online stuff, then some player interviews and a page one, so it was 8.30 by the time we left and we were virtually the last people out of the stadium.
You can see me being professional and unbiased here...
...and I was on Setanta shaking hands with all the players as they went up to collect their medals. Will I ever grow up?
For more, I refer you to the Captain's Blog, the link to which is on the right, over here somewhere.
Then more Space Beacon Earth tonight. There are two weeks to go to the gig and tonight they were more together than they're ever been. They were all relaxed and enjoying it. I now know the names of all four songs which are in playlist order: Carnaby; Strawberry Fair; Rosemary's Sundial and Sunny Day Brain Chisel. I have now changed my opinon on Rosemary's Sundial. It does not, under any circumstances, require a cowbell. What was I thinking?
Apparently they are becoming known locally as Gay Bacon Sandwich, but having a nickname at least means people are talking about them.
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