Hung Over

The Limburger nibbles grated against the backs of my eyeballs have brought out the mice again. They are now frantically chewing at my temporal lobes from where this painful hangover seems to originate. It really is too much to type this morning but I expect most of you are feeling pretty much the same after last night’s party to mark the one year anniversary of this blog’s launch. How Judy kept it all a secret from me I don’t know, but I have to thank so many of you for making the long trip to see us. The evening was a gala of bacchanalian fun with the occasional comic moment. Bill Oddie says he won’t sit down for a week while Stephen Fry is promising a fifty pound reward to the person who returns his favourite green cape. It was good to see a few of you take time to go and say hello to Fred Talbot who has featured so regularly in this blog, as he has featured in my life, over the last twelve months. He is no longer feral and, as many you discovered, he can now converse quite happily about the weather without trying to bite you.

Friendships were made last night that may never be broken.

The only thing I believe I have to apologise about is that Jeremy Clarkson thought it appropriate to show a picture of his recent eye infection to people as they were eating. Judy took him to one side and, as you can see, confiscated the photograph so there should be no repeat performances of that grotesque sideshow. The main event, as you know, was as much fun as you can get when living near to David Dickinson. That he complained half a dozen times about the noise was no fault of mine and I hope you appreciated the efforts we made to keep the party going until four in the morning.

Today is a matter of recovering before I go off to film this afternoon’s show. Judy is in a fine mood and even seems relaxed about the Dennis situation. For my part, I have decided to take more of a hand’s on role with the captions. They will be written by me, so any mistakes are my own.

I’m sure you come for lots of exciting tales today but I’m really too hung over to type for too long. Each keystroke is like a particularly hungry rodent sinking its teeth into my brain.

Perhaps later...