Best Buds and all that

I was on a promise for a day of sedentary activities, after all the peripatetic, outward bound, laudable activities of the last week. OK, I'd just about allowed a meeting with Jof for lunch, but I was still hoping he'd forget and I could while away the whole day on Minecraft, Youtube and reading my Minecraft-related book. I had spinach and Ricotta pasta for breakfast, as you do.

So you will imagine my rage and disgruntlement when he said that Ben had returned from the wilds of Cornwall, and had invited me round to his, from where we might even visit the beach hut and play in the sea.

I huffed and puffed and refused and sulked, even more when I found out I'd have to cycle there. But when I arrived, we started on the X-box and it had to auto-update so we burned around the bumpy paths on the bikes and got hot and I'd been issued with £6 for ice creams so we cycled down to the shop like proper independent boys and then the X-box was ready and what more does a growing lad need. We indulged in an orgy of farting and I left after 5 1/2 hours of Ben which was epic. My choice for Film Night was 'Blazing Saddles'. And in just a few short days, the Waco Kid himself (Gene Wilder) would be dead. It is not my fault.