The Season of Goodwill

This is BB. She is the new lead singer for a band called Juzzt. She reminds me of a cross between one of those Eastern European Super models and Debbi Harry. I met her Thursday night on a photo shoot. She's quite pleasant for a super model.. er.. singer.

I spent Christmas with the ex and the children. The ex's new boyfriend was there, actually boyfriend number two boyfriend number one wasn't arriving until after six when boyfriend number two had left. Boyfriend number one if you remember is the undertaker who's idea of showing a girl a good time is taking her to Blackpool to pick up a body in the company Estate car. Neither boyfriend is talkative and so boyfriend number two was a bit lost when my son started asking him about the collapse of communism in Russia and China. He couldn't cope on a Christmas day with all the references to Uncle Joe Stalin and Chairman Mao. He was even more disturbed when daughter putting uneaten custard in a plastic bag asked him to feel it to see if it felt like a real breast. I was waiting for him to run out the house screaming.
Daughter: What's up you never felt a breast before?
Boyfriend: er....
Daughter: What do you reckon dad?
Me: it's not like any breast I've felt kiddo.
Daughter: So not a good implant then?
Ex wife: Have you tried mashed potato there's some left?
Daughter: It had better not be lumpy mash. What do you reckon boyfriend?
Boyfriend: er... whatever. er... what time do I have to leave?
Ex wife: well boyfriend one isn't arriving til six so whenever before then?
Boyfriend: Well thanks for a lovely Christmas dinner. I don't think I've ever spent a more bizarre christmas.
Daughter: This is normal for us.
Boyfriend: Good bye!
Son: Bye come back when you've less time.
Me: OK kids we've got half and hour to prepare for boyfriend number one. How shall we destroy him?
Daughter: Ooooh let me count the ways.....

'tis the season of goodwill. 

Naked photo shoot

So yesterday I get a phone call from Vanessa. She wanted me to take photos of her for a school project.
"What's the subject?" I ask.
"Nude movement and Action."
"WHAT???" I almost choked on the coffee I was sipping. "You want me to take photos of you in the nude? Does your mother know?"
"Oh yes she told me to phone you."
Well I know her mum is very liberal but there are limits. I didn't want to be arrested, even though Vanessa is over 17 years old.
So I went over with my camera, her parents were there to supervise and her mum fussed over her baby daughter making sure that the simulated naked photo was going to work tucking in exposed bits of clothing behind the guitar. You see in this photo Vanessa is actually fully clothed. Ahhh The power of suggestion.
I wont show you the simulated drug overdose pictures, or the simulated angel halo pix.
...and don't even think of asking if there were any simulated sex photos.
What do you take me for?

Rock on Dudes 

Merry Christmas

If anyone else asks me if I'm ready for Christmas I'm gonna deck 'em.

The answer is....

No I'm not ready for Christmas.

Not now. Not ever. I will never be ready for Christmas.
My only hope is I can scrape through Christmas unscathed and not upset anyone too much.

So for those of you who don't have a Black dog savaging you in these dark days I wish you

A Very Merry Christmas and a Happy new year.

No really I mean it.

Lot's of love

Mike Da Hat and his black dog Satan

Serious Pussy action

Here's my Christmas treat to all you red blooded males out there. You know you want it. You want some serious pussy action.

well here it is....
Some Serious pussy action.


Merry Christmas

Rock on dudes

A dog is for life.

You know the phrase a dog is for life not just for Christmas. Well I have the exception to this rule.
The Black dog is for Christmas not for life. I'll tie it in a sack and sling it out the window of my car whilst driving down the motorway in January.

Meanwhile Black Dog is destroying my ability to be productive so I've started to try and organise my life in the absense of my being able to be spontaneous like I normally am. So here's how I'm organising my life so far.

1. Things I'm not going to do today.

2. Things I probably wont do tomorrow

3. Things I will never do.

There I feel so much better now I've sorted that lot out. I'm safe and secure in the knowledge that everything is sorted into it's proper category.

Rock on Dudes

For Sale

For Sale: One Black Dog.
Mean and moody, suit new owner with a strong temperament.
Eats nothing but consumes all.
Free to a bad home.

The Black Dog

Freinds, I beg your patience with me. The black dog of winter has visited me. It happens every year. This year I've been spared it by almost a month because we've had a very long Autumn with the sun shining and I've been out walking. Normally it hits me the middle of November. This year it's the middle of December. So I'm thankful.
You may want to tell me to cheer up but it doesn't work that way. I know my life is fantastic. I know I have a fabulous time. I know everything is falling into place and everything is going great. I know all this. But the Black Dog doesn't do logic. Their is no logic to winter depression.

For instance I should be really happy that I had a phone call today from a famous Blues band wanting me to shoot their album cover over Christmas. I should be elated, I should be walking on air.
I should be happy that the local paper are doing a story featuring my photos this Wednesday, giving me full credit.
I should be happy that I am now the official photographer for Muddy Promotions and Unity. You can see that I can see that. But the Black Dog doesn't.
The Black Dog doesn't care about anything or anyone. He just squats in my head and runs riot, destroying my friendships by making me be impatient. The Black Dog has my head in a vice squeezing so tightly that I can't think anymore.
I have to warn my friends that they should ignore me. Leave me alone. Don't push me or else the wrath of Satan will descend on them through my lips. The Black Dog makes me not give a shit what I say. Any innocent comment that previously would go right over my head and be shrugged off will let forth a stream of abuse. I shock myself sometimes. It's not me saying this... it's the Black Dog.
So don't tell me to cheer up, I will in due time. That will be mid January if things run true to course.
But keep this in mind even though Black Dog is in control right now my life is great. I know it. I really do. Things couldn't be better. I know everything is hunky dory. But logic has no part in my mind right now. I can tell myself this until the cows come home but it wont make any difference until 15th of January, when I regain control of my life, and I kick Black Dog into touch.
Meanwhile you may care to take a look at this.

This is how good my life really is.

So while I tell you all to fuck off and leave me alone. You should know I love you all. It's just the fucking BLACK DOG!

Rock on dudes.

Jamie Lee Curtis - The End

So Jamie Lee Curtis is gone now. Well actually she goes today but last night was the last time I will see her and it was a strange event, not at all what I expected. There was no "sex and the city" shennanigans. Nothing like that. I got to her house through the security gates, up the drive and round the back to the tradesmans entrance where she stood in her kitchen wrapping bone china using an industrial roll of bubble wrap. She waved at me through the window to come straight in. She barely looked up from her wrapping to say "hello." She looked kind of sad and tired. We stood in the kitchen a while making inconsequential small talk. A single bottle of fizzy white wine on the side accompanying some cans of beer.
"Do you want me to pour you a drink?" I asked.
"OK." I opened a cupboard. No wine glasses. "Oh no! I've packed them all already. Make do and mend." she said forcing a smile, and pulled out a plastic childs beaker. It was translucent blue and soft. It had a picture of "Tigger" on the side. I poured the equivalent of a generous glass of wine and handed it to her. She took it and said "Let's go through."
I followed her through the dining room to her once opulent sitting room. It was totally bare. The walls stripped of all the pictures hangings and awards. All that was left was a settee a TV and a load of taped up cardboard boxes in the corner.
She lifted her plastic beaker to me "I guess this is the last time then." she said and tapped my can of beer with her plastic mug. Her words echoed round the empty room. It felt cold though I'm sure it wasn't. She sat down on the settee. I sat next to her with my beer.
She grabbed an over sized throw cushion and sat there hugging it like a cuddly toy, looking round the room. She didn't say a word and we sat there awkwardly. There didn't seem to be anything to say. All my enthusiasm was gone. I guessed hers too. So we watched TV. There was nothing on so we watched a load of rubbish. I remembered the many times we'd sat there watching some action film laughing and joking and having fun. I topped up her beaker a few times and we made an effort at conversation, but it was forced and stilted. The sadness crept like night ending a sunny day. It was tough.
I felt she didn't want me there, not this time. I said I was going to leave.
"Must you?" but she said that out of duty, a knee jerk reaction. Always be polite at all times and always say the right thing.
"Yes I think so."
I went toward the back door.
"No Mikel you will leave through the front door."
"No it's OK it doesn't matter."
"No Mikel." she was very firm. "Today you leave through the front door." she tapped her pockets and started looking around "Where's the key?" she was getting flustered. She wiped her eye with the back of her hand, a fleeting movement so maybe I wouldn't notice.
"It really doesn't matter. I'll go out the back way."
"It bloody does matter Mikel. You will leave through the front door. God! Where's my fucking keys?" her voice was cracking. It was even more poignant because it was the very first time I'd ever heard her swear.
She found her keys and fumbling with them dropped them on the floor, she picked them up again a tried the lock again and opened the door.
The cool night air fell into the hallway round our legs. She poked her head out sniffing the air. "It's not so cold tonight."
We stood there staring out the door waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting for the inevitable last moment I would ever see her again.
We waited some more. But what was the point? I stepped out into the night. My feet crunched the gravel. I expected her to call after me something like "Don't leave just like that." but she didn't say a word the light from the door was illuminating my footsteps down the drive until she shut the door and my feet were plunged into darkess. I didn't turn round I kept on walking.

Jamie Lee Curtis - The dirt

So Petal thinks she can't believe I'm playing it so cool with Jamie Lee Curtis. Well the truth is the whole demograph of our relationship has changed. Where before I had to work real hard, now I do nothing. I can call the shots. It used to be me who took round the drinks. Now I phone her and say "Hey make sure there's some beer in the house for when I get there."
She came to see me again today. "Are you still coming round tomorrow?"
"Maybe."
"What do you mean 'maybe'?"
"I might be busy."
"But you promised."
"We'll see."
You see Jamie Lee Curtis has given me the brush off so many times that now I don't give a shit anymore. In that time she has had the upper hand. She was in control and calling the shots. Now it's all changed. She realises I don't give a shit whether she wants me or not and it's pissing her off. She went too far. She has lost control. I am not at her beck and call. She knows she's hot. But in her mind it's not enough to persuade me now. I don't care how many 'keep fit' videos she's made. Fit for what? So that's why I'm playing it so cool. It's working. I've made her believe she wants me more than I want her. Because really I don't give a shit anymore. I've better things to do than chase a loser.
I'm sorry to all fans of Jamie Lee, but that's the truth. Why waste your energy on a prima donna? They aren't THAT special. OK they're up on screen every week on on your TV's. But does that really make them worthy? I don't think so. Beneath it all they are just like you and me. The same problems, the same insecurities (in fact more insecurities) and more make up. High definition television will be the death of JLC and she knows it. Chrikey she's the same age as me and I'm cracking on. There's fourteen days between us so I'll be shagging an older woman. Ha ha. Doesn't she know it?

So the question remains. Do I buy her a christmas present? Before she buggers off out of my life forever.

Before I go I've got to recommend you listen to Ryan Adams. I am completely hooked on his song "Winding wheel" right now, off his first album. That's Ryan not Brian. Who is a complete tosser.

Rock on dudes

Unity Rocks

Well Unity has been going for a few months now and it seems to be going from strength to strength. This week we've got James Chadwick up on stage. He was one of six finalists for the BBC folk musician of the year, and he's only a baby. So that's going to be exciting. I'll post some pix of the night. Alternatively just look on the Unity website.
Then on Saturday we've got a charity concert in aid of the Tsunami victims featuring loads of local talent. I shall miss the first few hours because I'm collecting Gemmalah Da Hat from University that day. I'll be missing the last couple of hours because I'm an old fart and I need my sleep. But as it goes on for a marathon 14 hours I'll be there taking photos for a long time.
It's going to be busy. I just hope Jamie Lee Curtis doesn't wear me out before hand. She's a minx, just coz she's moving away. I can't believe that she played so hard to get before and now... Perhaps she's just trying to get round me because she needs cardboard boxes to pack away her Oscars.
Today I wanted to tell her she had a spot/zit on her nose. That's very non showbizz. But I was a gentleman and kept schtumm. Although last week I said to her "For chrissakes, when I come round, make sure you've got rid of all that slap."
"What?"
"All that lipstick and shit. You don't need it." Last Wednesday evening when I arrived she was "au naturel".
This morning she was plastered with the stuff. I didn't kiss her. She left with her cardboard boxes, unmolested. She'll get the message eventually. If she wants me, she'll have to try a lot harder than that. Who wants to plough through inches of Lancomne?
She thinks she's hot. She thinks she's playing the game. It's become a battle of wills. She wants to play me. But I wont let her. I want to use her. But she wont let me. I guess we'll have to compromise. Neither of us want the other to have the advantage. So far the score is one all. When this is all over we'll still be friends, albeit at a distance, but neither of us want the other to have the upper hand, to have the last call.
Do I buy her a christmas present? Or do I play it uber cool and give her nothing?

You have two days to give me advice. Then the curtain drops and Jamie Lee Curtis will be out of my life. Forever. Gone to walk the red carpet of fame. Either that or devote her life to deprived children of the third world. Using her fame and fortune to blaze her trail. The Princess Diana of Hollywood.

You know you have an opinion. Comment now or forever be damned.

Rock on dudes

The thin blue line

So now the world is a safer place all thanks to the thin blue line. The drugs dealers are all behind bars and in the small hours in the street outside my gaff all is quiet.
On very cold days our boys (and girls) in blue come to me for a brew. Here's WPC Diane and PC Jamie having a warm before they sally forth into the unknown, fighting the forces of evil. Righting wrongs and upholding the banner of truth and justice.

Meanwhile that little strumpet Jamie Lee Curtis came to see me this morning. She's moving soon. God she's been playing hard to get for ages and now she's on the move, never to be seen again, AND NOW just 'cause she's moving (Maybe) she's playing me for everything she's got. Women huh? There must be some psychology behind this one. Is it because she's moving and she'll never see me again that suddenly her defences are down? Does she think she's nothing to lose now? Answers on a postcard please.

Rock on Dudes 

Pussy shot

Here's an "aaaah!" moment for the sentimental amongst you. I'm not one usually for such sentimentalities. I leave that to the girlies. But I was round Dels house this morning at stupid o'clock with camera to lend him moral support.
That was after going to the Unity photoshoot. Last night the place was rocking with everyone a movin' an a groovin'. One of our best nights yet. I might treat you to some photos.... and why not.
Gareth Bloye (Girth) - Yo Yeti
Abi poruing me a pint. Look I know I keep posting pictures of Abi, but she is very very special, so....
Vince From the Amazing CIRCUS
Mick on Bass – Circus
Circus + more friends

This should not be allowed. I shant sleep for weeks after this. It's the nightmares.

Rock on doodly dudes

Why the French hate us

I was talking to Helene today on the phone. She's French. She was telling my why the French hate us so much. I use the term hate in it's loosest form I must add. These are the reasons in no particular order and certainly not an exhaustive list of why the French hate us so much.
1. We've been at war with the French so many times and they lost. They've never really forgiven us. Even though we saved their butts from the Nazis. But they really credit the Americans for saving them not us.
2. English people abroad behave terribly. They are rude and arrogant. Actually sometimes we're ashamed of our own people, when they hit the night spots of some cheapo meditteranean resort on a club 18 - 30 holiday.
3. We have mint sauce on our lamb. WHAT? Apparently in France this concept of putting mint sauce on perfectly good lamb brings about howls of laughter and derision.
4. In food generally they hate us. Our food is spectacularly bad according to the French. The only good food we have is food we've stolen from other countries and then we make a mess of it.
5. The English drink too much.
So all this was told me in good humour so then she asked me why the English hate the French so much so I came up with a list to amuse her.
We hate the French because...
1. They don't wash they just put on more cologne or perfume.
2.French girls don't shave and have hairy pits.
3. They are completely mad.
4. They have a president who is only staying on as president so he doesn't have to go to jail.
5. The French drink too much.

On points 1 & 2 & 3 Helene pointed out that that could be true if you were describing a French SDF (ess day eff) who is a person of no fixed abode. But she pointed out this person would also be smoking "Gauloise" and trying to look chic.

" 'Chic.' you say. Ha! The French fashion industry has crumbled. They are about as fashionable as a cold sore.Now if you want fashion you've got to come to England."
"Zee eenglish fashion is not fashun My-kel. It's rubbish. It's not chic."
"it may not be chic but it isn't boring. We are adventurous. None of your navy blue twinset combo and pearls for our girls."
"We are not all like that My-kel."
"OK so what are you wearing today?"
"my black jeans and black pullover."
"Exactly?"
"Exactement quoi?"
"It's the standard twinset except black this time."
"But it's practical. I am working today."
"Yeah yeah yeah!"
"So monsieur fashun Eengleesh what are you wearing today?"
"Er....."
"Yes?"
"Er..... black jeans and a black sweat shirt. But I'm working."

Le rock en mes dudes

Birthday girl

So we held our usual music club meeting tonight and it was Tracys birthday. She's not a member but a local at our pub. She was pissed after having railroaded me and several others to buy her birthday drinks. She came into the music room and demanded we play "Happy Birthday" to her. We did in several different keys. Del on drums me Rory and Smashy on guitar. Then I flew into "The letter" gimme a ticket for an aeroplane aint got time to take fast train etc then "California dreaming" then "Summer time" Porgie and Bess. They're all in the same key and make a nice medley. I zapped into "I feel fine" by the Beatles changing the lyrics to "Tracys good to me you know she's happy as can be you know she says so..."Finally I went into "20th Century boy" by T Rex. By this time she was up and dancing with her husband and Railway man picked her up and slung her playfully across his shoulder. She fell. Flat on her back and smashed her head on the radiator. She was out cold for two minutes. She came to in a crowd and started screaming that she couldn't see anything. She is registered blind. But can see a little. I think it's tunnel vision she's got. She called for her husband.
"I'm right here in front of you." he said.
"I can't see you." she cried.
"Oh shit!" we thought.
She was crying. Her husband panicking. We were very worried. Slowly she came round more, she sat up, two minutes later she was on her knees. Another two minutes later she's standing. Her sight came back.
God what a relief.
We went home. Another exciting night

Rock on dudes

Sick or what?

So I've been working on a sick new game for my children to play over Christmas. It's called Tsunami Monopoly. IN this version of the game all the players start off with an equal amount of Hotels and houses and property sites. As you race round the board a throw of the dice decides how hard the Tsunami hit's your house or hotel and whether they get washed away or not. When you no longer have any property to hide in, you yourself are washed away and are out of the game. But of course you have life lines which are the Chance cards and Opportunity knocks cards. These cards tell you if you get Aid from Oxfam or the Red cross. A card say "Christian Aid has delivered a ton of sand bags to save your house". It could tell you "your Aid has been held up by international border disputes miss a turn". There will still be the "You win a beauty competition card" but that's just because it's so daft and it makes me laugh.
I haven't figured out what to do with the go to jail bit and get out of jail cards. Nor have I got a pass go collect £200 option either.
I don't think this game will ever be commercially available but if you can think of more rules let me know, we plan to be playing this while the ex-wife isn't looking on Christmas day. If you can't be politically incorrect on Christmas day when can you be?

Meanwhile more sick jokes for you in my unashamedly politically incorrect posting for today. Today I have no shame....

The Vietnamese have banned christmas decorations this year they hanging glitter instead.

The MFI group are pulling out of Kashmir because of too much competition in the flat pack market.

Gary Glitter doesn't want his ashes scattered when he dies. He wnts them put into an Etch-a-sketch so kids can keep on playing with him.

Rock on dudes

The Willow Festival

I am so tired you wouldn't believe it. I hardly slept last night. My mind was racing with thoughts and ideas about "Unity". This is the website I've been working on recently, and the club I've been helping out with. I remember looking at the alarm clock radio at 05:00am and thinking "Shit! I'm still awake." In an effort to get these thoughts about Unity out my head I phoned Richard this afternoon and told him all my ideas and my thoughts. He listened with enthusiasm. They had already thought of some of the ideas but others were new. He invited me to join him and another team on working on a music festival next year. I agreed if only for the experience. Live music is my passion. Not just sitting there watching it but being part of the promotion and part of the organisation.You never know we could get the "Willow Festival" up and running again. Oh of course you don't know about the willow festival. It ran for five successive years it was a free music festival with 6 stages giving continuous music over three days in the summer. Two huge stages for the main acts and four marquees. Most of the bands were local bands. It was one massive showcase with a fun fair and trade stands for those ethnic products T-shirts, tie dyed stuff, smoking paraphanalia, posters, you know the sort. Well it was wonderful. Everyone who went just loved it. One one stage there would be a punk band, and on the next a ska band, on the main stage a rock band. Another stage would have a solo acoustic performer. There was something for everyone. It was a huge picnic that lasted three days with a fire work finale at the end on Sunday night. It all ended two years ago when the organisers got fed up and didn't want to do it again. People were heart broken. We had people coming over from the continent just for this event. Then it was all over.All that experience lost.

It's a big thing to host. None of us has the experience to put it on ourselves. But maybe if we work up to it, it can happen again. It's not just a case of booking bands. No sirree! There's security. theres ambulance cover, there's rubbish collection, there's the marquees to hire, the stages to be built. The sound systems to find. The fun fair to book , the trade stands to encourage. Not forgetting the toilets and bars. The guys who did this before had it all sewn up. We've got to start from scratch not knowing anything. There's sponsorship and council grants not forgetting council permission. It's almost scary. But wouldn't it be a great achievement if we could pull it off?

I'm not saying we can do this or we will. But I'd like to think it's something we can aspire to. We don't have much in Peterborough in the way of music. Yeah we have the pub bands. But the "big" concerts are usually just "Queen" tribute bands or "The Animals" forty years after their last hit single with only one original member present and he's the drummer. It's as if the kids are ignored. Why can't we have the Kaiser Chiefs or the Arctic Monkeys playing here? Or any one of the up and coming new acts? Peterborough needs this. We don't need to be some avoidable backwater.

OK I've got it out my system now I'm going to bed maybe now I've written it all down I can sleep.

Rock on dudes

In The Cold Light Of The Day

So I get up this morning to find my carpark full of police cars and vans. It's the day shift arriving to turn over the Afro carribean grocery. They're already taking out bin bags full of stuff. The press has arrived and a TV crew soon to follow. It's a major drug bust. There's also talk of prostitution but I can't confirm that other than to say that girls wearing next to nothing would habitually sit on the wall (shown top left of photo) in all weathers. "You looking for business mate?" Now these girls aren't your high class hookers. They exhibit more of the "yikes!" factor followed or accompanied by a visible shudder and cringe. I wouldn't touch them with yours,if you know what I'm saying. Scabsville Arizona.

So the police have just been in to inform me of their continuing operation and give me a leaflet that asks "Are drugs harming your community?"
Well not anymore they aint.
WPC Diane came in for a warm. I swear that girl spend more time in my shop than she does out on the streets fighting crime. I'm not complaining for two reasons 1. For a copper she's incredibly cute. and 2 the bad guys will think twice if they see the uniform in our shop albiet huddled over our electric heater.

So that's the score for now.

Crack on dudes 

The drug bust

So tonight outside my place the police arrived in force complete with Riot shields and helmets. Five large police vans and about 50 officers. They raided the carribean grocery a few doors down from me. Ten people were arrested on drugs charges and a carrier bag full of hard cash taken away.
Crowds gathered. It was almost a carnival in it's atmosphere. It was inevitable. I've known the police have been watching this place for ages. They've visited me many times pressing me for imformation. I've said nothing. But to any casual observer it was obvious that this was a front for a major drug operation. I'm gutted that I didn't take photographs. I'm going to hate myself for ages for not shooting the scene. To bring it to you live as it happened. Bugger. I have no excuse. It as just me wimping out due to pressure from the locals who didn't want me to bring out the camera.

Go on flay me I deserve it. I've punished myself enough tonight so you may as well have a go at me. Even later the police man I spoke to said I should have taken photos. Buggger bugger bugger! Call myself a photographer?

I'm going to bed now. I don't deserve your support. I've failed you.
Stop logging on to this site. I'm a miserable failure. You don't need me.

Don't even bother rocking on.

East meets West

Tonight at the pub some Asian guys came up to me and asked me if I was still playing in the band. I said "No. But I'm still doing the Tuesday night music club."
"Wow! Can you teach me guitar then?"
"Sure just turn up on Tuesday."
"I don't have a guitar."
"That's OK I have a spare guitar. We'll teach you some basics and go on from there."
"I've got a Taliban. Have you ever played one?" I was sure he said Taliban.
"What?"
"it's a drum."
Del explained to me later that the Taliban (not the real name and I can't remember what it's really called but could be Tabla) was the drum that made the boing sound in Asian music. They can apparently change the note of the drum by squeezing it. Giving the distinctive boing sound. I'm not even sure how to spell "boing".
This made me think that we could end up with a fusion of western rock and eastern boing. Which would be pretty cool.
All we need now is some dude to turn up with a sitar and we're all made up.
"I know." says my Asian friend, "you teach me guitar and I'll teach you how to play the Taliban."
So next Tuesday, if he's serious, we'll have an East meets west Bangra Rock session.

Del wanted me to officially announce the end of his marriage today on this site. I said I wasn't comfortable with talking about his private life like that. But if you've read the comments you'll probably already have guessed. I still love them both. But I'd not go to bed with either of them. Sorry that's an in joke we have. As usual I will not be taking sides. I'm going to sit on the fence like some wuss. As I say I love them both. But sometimes things just don't work out. I'll say no more.