Days like this are why I drink heavily

Saturday morning we've done some housework, straightened the slum that is his work in progress by the front door (including the box of cigarette butts, and the camping crap), been to the library to do some work on the half-term project and now we're waiting for the pall to fall... he's due home any minute.

Sadly there was nothing useful at the library which seems to have dispensed with the useful fall back which is the multi-volume encyclopaedia in favour of the Dorling Kinder(?) encyclo-lite which is strong on technically well-executed and colourful illustrations but relatively light on (a-hem) information.

The offspring are reading while waiting for their nutritious lunch of sausage roll, crisps and apple ('Tangy', what ever the fuck that might be, thank you Tesco; it isn't a variety that appears in any book on fruit trees I've consulted).

After lunch the fat bastard will spread himself on the lounge floor, shove one hand down his pants and prop himself on the other elbow to watch the rugby. And the rest of us will work around his pressing tv schedule (in this town?).

He claimed he went to London yesterday to see his mother ... and came back with nothing which is very nearly unprecedented and makes me believe that the Fool from Philadelphia is in town.