Binge drinking evaluation

Ah well, it's back to the grind and no mistake. Eventually returned from the show, burned my clothes, shoved the contents of the freezer's icemaker down my skiddies* to beat off the effects of "Fairford Crotch**" and next thing I knew it was Sunday, whereupon it's Sunday papers, and onto the train and off to the pub. Ah, civilisation!! What is it about train pub trips that I like so much?

And back to a new week, back to the fun factory and back to a very strange graveyard shift which involves not so much of the ordinary nonsense with which they fill our lives, if we're lucky, and a lot more of the buggering about, choosing our own destiny that we LIKE to to if given half a chance; also extra time for all those administrative chores (what chores? pint of Broadside please, eye thenk you) that we normally leave by the wayside as our lives are clogged up for us by other people who sit in offices. A little destructive on the old social life, but I actually seem to be the team freak (so what's new) on this subject as I seem to PREFER 1600-midnight thirty. And on top of that, booked my leave for Croppers folk festival, and even booked my ticket so this time there'll be none of the ever sociable Kev sending me texts during the mid-morning while I'm at work saying "hmmmm, fifth pint and it's only ten o clock" and "mmmm, isn't this Old Hooky tremendous". With friends like mine, who needs total bastards :o)

Other stuff? Well, I scuttled off to Waddington yesterday to see if I could catch thoseIndian fighters going home, as they were scheduled to. The answer? I couldn't. They'd hurtled off just after six am, when everyone was still snoring except for the diehards who slept in their cars (and people call ME sad...). However, I did see the last of those big Ilyushin transports that aren't built to please the noise campaigners go, a very happy wavey flight crew that was....

And a couple of American F-15's bashing the circuit.

While there, seem to have fixed the glitch on my camera that was underexposing everything and causing me grief. All I've got to do now is go through about 500 photo's I've taken in the last month and fix their problems by hand.... gaaaaaah!!!

The bad news is that working this shift pattern and running about the country chasing hairyplanes leaves little time for shopping; I'm out of white wine and good quality lagerbeer, or refreshing light bottle conditioned. The wine racks are positively depressing in their lack of bottles, but I'd deliberately done this for reasons of economy. This may have be a mistake, which as I have dedicated today to domestic tasks, I should do something about. As it is, got home last night with the munchies for chilled drinkies, don't think I've ever drunk so much gin and tonic in my life. Result? Chronic case of the munchies while I was enjoying the drinks, and a slightly fuzzy head this morning. Don't think gin's good for my waistline. I shall stick to beer, and obtain some Czech Budvar if I can.

* Not really. It's called a metaphor

** Medical condition, particular to this airshow. You really don't wanna know....