But I Digress...

I started writing a new article last night (because I promised Candace I would) but when I left the room for a smoke I got distracted by an episode of The Avengers downstairs. Was it good to see Emma Peel in colour? No, it was fabulous to see Emma Peel in colour!

My dad was finishing a glass of white and making noises like he was about to go to bed when I opened the box of red I recently inherited. (It baffles me how they get four bottles into a box that small but I dare say it's got something to do with corners.) Unsurprisingly, bedtime was postponed for the time being. He told me that one of his friends thinks his cat is a mechanic because every time he kicks it, it makes a bolt for the door. I parried with George W. Bush's reaction to hearing three Brazilian soldiers had been killed ("How many is a Brazillion?") and he finished with a ditty about getting pulled over for speeding:

Policeman: "Do you realise that you just drove 60 m.p.h. in a built-up area?"
Punchline: "That's impossible, officer. I only left home ten minutes ago!"

Clearly, it was downhill from there so we drank more wine and channel-hopped instead: the end of Out Of Sight wasn't as good as I remembered; Ronnie O'Sullivan's shirt puckered on The Frank Skinner Show, treating the viewer to his super-hairy belly; and Teddy Sherringham qualified for the semi-finals of the 2005 888.com U.K. Poker Championships. I had the remote and tried to make it look like I didn't know where all the free late night soft porn lives. He talked about going back to Cuba and offered me all sorts of help for when I move out.

We went to bed about 0400, slurring what fun we'd had en route. Good times! For which I hope you'll forgive my stunning non-return to the blogosphere last night. Somehow Dad was up before 0900 today yet I'm blogging from bed.

Emma Peel, one last time. I feel funny when I look at her.