OMFG

[mad_andy]

We're going from Stockholm to Milan.

Right. So last night I mooch across to Maiden's website to see if they've got the details of Bruce's next TV adventure (in which he explores the mysteries of Spontaneous Human Combustion, should be interesting) and what do I see?

The above ad.

I promptly scream and panic. Because of course, Slay did not renew his FC membership, did he? So we're going to have to wait until June 1st to see if any tickets are left.

Not to mention the slightly iffy fact that what with things the way they are between us we might not even be living together by then. Argh.

Still, I bounded downstairs and let him know. And said look, you enjoyed it last time. I want to go, you want to go, you don't know anybody else who wants to go and you won't go on your own, right?

Yeah, he says.

So, I reply. You pay, I'll go with you, if anything goes tits up between now and december I'll pay you back. Eventually.

He says he'll think about it.

This morning he calls me from work and says, OK. Go ahead. Book the two day one.

So I upgrade my Maiden Online Club membership, and book 'em.

It hasn't sunk in yet. And damn, am I going to explode or what!!!!

In other news, the council have been on to the company we hire the container from, bunch of fucking jobsworths that the council are. Turns out they're grumbling about legal action. Well, I calls the guy back and ask him nicely what he suggests. He says that if it can go five metres from the road no problem.

I live on a council estate, I say. Five metres? Get real.

Then he says, oh, OK, well as long as it's no closer the road than the house that'll be fine.

...?

So let me get this straight. If it's moved twenty feet forward and eight feet to the left, which brings it right in the middle of the garden, blocking a certain amount of light from neighbour's gardens and being far more obvious, that's OK?

As long as it's in line with the house, yes, he says.

Right. That's what we'll do then. Sod the fucking neighbours.

So on saturday I'm going to be moving the ferrets and possibly grinding out the concrete washing line nearest the house. You know, I bet JK Rowling never has days like this....