Another new week and today it was Bank Holiday Monday as well. The excitement in the Brown household was palpable. Beard Face and Frizzy Hair headed out for a long walk with the beard promising her he'd take her somewhere they'd never been before. I can only hope he means right into a furnace for himself while the frizz is directed to a most splendid coffee shop of her choice. That would be a good day.
TuesdayThe French Open is up and running so Beard Face has been donning the shorts and arming himself with a tennis racquet. Today he wandered up and down the nearby main road, serving some ferocious shots at people opposite him. After an hour's worth of play the Beard had injured 29 people and smashed 17 car windows. It wasn't all bad. He came home with two black eyes, a broken nose and the tennis racquet still upon his person but not immediately visible to the naked eye. It turns out people don't take too kindly to being assaulted by roadside tennis.
WednesdayBoredom seems to have got the better of Beard Face. It's becoming so worrying that even I am starting to get concerned. I wandered into the living room this afternoon to find the Beard presiding over what looked like a miniature horse racing event but when I was closer I realised the horses were actually sausage rolls. The beard invited me to place a bet on the next race as this one had already started. It looked an exciting race. Not one sausage roll had moved! Given enough time and enough mould they could advance to the finishing line in the next few years. I'll hang onto my money until then.
ThursdayBeard Face was in a better mood this morning due to a decent night's sleep. The previous two days Frodo had limited the old boy's sleep to just five hours thanks to his brass band and circus act first thing in the morning. Today though the beard was all smiles, taking in the sun (even though it wasn't sunny), enjoying the grass (dog shit everywhere) and feeling the reassurance of being a person who is loved and admired by everyone (I'll let you fill in this bit!). How'd you do?
FridayBeard Face is reading the latest book by Jon Ronson. As usual, he tries to change his voice to sound like Ronson and often says "Ha! Ha!" for no apparent reason. Ronson's book is about public shaming online something the beard has surprisingly managed to avoid in his life thus far. Charlie was once publicly shamed for mixing up Walmart with the Pop art movement. Not an easy mistake to make but Charlie did. His abuse didn't last long. A bit of detective work revealed it was Buggles who was posing as a troll on Twitter and abusing Charlie. Buggles didn't realise what he'd been doing. He assumed having become an internet troll he had found his way onto World of Warcraft and assumed the way forward was to abuse everyone in sight. In summary, Charlie and Buggles have the mental capacity of a grape, one they clearly have to lend to one another.
SaturdayFA Cup final day today as Arsenal take on Aston Villa. I'll be tuning in with the other cats. Hopefully it will be less of an ordeal than last year when Arsenal took on Hull. Charlie continually swore at the TV as Arsenal did not live up to their military name while Buggles continually referred to Hull as Hell. I've never been to Hull to be honest but I'm pretty sure it doesn't warrant the title of "Hell." I can't say the same about Barnsley but that's another story for another time, place and galaxy.
SundayBeard Face was having a good old sing song this afternoon while watching the cricket. He decided to serenade us with a rendition of Abba's Our Last Summer, or at least his own version of it. Rather than try and sing beautifully as the ladies in Abba always did, Beard Face decided to change the lyrics and focus on his days of failed driving tests. Yes, rest easy, he's never been licensed to drive a car. Beard Face sang at the top of his lungs, "I can still recall my last bumper, I still drive without it, driving in the rain, laughing with the pain, my last bumper." Beautiful, poetic and guaranteed to live on forever. Beard Face's song on the other hand, well...
