SandD just popped around to give me a birthday present, which was intentionally not for this moment but for the moment.
A magnum of Veuve Clicquot explains that little riddle, which is intended for the day that I get the all clear. Mmmmmmmmmm. Cheers.
I did well for presents from my family and the humour was out from Notoplip and Sushi again with a big winter Welsh coat, matching woolly hat (the sort that comes down over your ears with hanging tassles) and flip flops.
SandD's visit was revealing in a different way though in that I got to hear the gossip that my English mates are dishing out whilst I am on the end of a drip and cannula. The gossip is that the blood I recieved in the transfusion on my birthday was from a gay Englishman.
Cabbie, take me to Mincing Lane in the City, I have a new walk to practice.
Billy the Fish (one half of SandD) proclaimed that my days as a Welshman are numbered!
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