Rumbled...

I've beem rumbled. I mentioned to the HF I had a blog and he guessed the title in 2 minutes flat and logged on. Thank God I didn't write anything awful. He has promised not to read it but I know he will (and I know you're reading this now, you lying bastard) but I guess if you live by the sword you die by the sword. (Better than being a boring, snoring old fart I say).

Anyway, I've got a date for this weekend with him, although a quick one. (Yes....I was planning to lure you into my bed but you would rather watch the rugby. Ok....I can live with that....for now. Just don't get too pissed on Saturday so you can't meet me on the Sunday. 'Cos if you do I'll tell the whole world! )

The beauty of that last paragraph is that HF has promised he won't look at it. So if he's read it he can't say or do anything about it, and if he hasn't, then no harm done.

It's telling that someone that I thought I didn't know too well has read me well enough to come up with the title of my blog, google it, and read in next to no time. It must mean I'm a completely shallow open book and I've learned a salutary lesson in keeping my big mouth shut.

Now does anyone have directions to Chiswick........?