Cakes and operations

I went to Arty Antonia's birthday tea in Bognor armed with little cakes that went down a treat. She had very nice friends there with whom I drank copious cups of tea and ate silly little cakes. Her man was there. I greeted him with "Hello Shit Face, I see you're back in her life." He laughed, he knew he deserved no better. Antonia was dismayed. I then had to atone for my sin (if caring for your dear friend is a sin) by listening to a blow by blow account of the man's gall bladder operation. Every time I wanted to scream "Stop, please, I can't take any more" I found myself asking another medical question and inspecting his livid scars and horrific midriff bruising. I asked for it, I got it. When the man had gone a friend arrived who had also had a gall bladder removed. Gosh, I didn't know it was a gall bladderless zone - I should have left mine at home. Of course talk of such things leads to everyone describing in detail every medical complaint and subsequent surgery they've ever had. I'm sure the birthday weekend will get jollier and I hope Antonia has a fun one.

I spent the rest of the evening with Simon & Donna in the Witterings. We went for a curry and had an alzheimer conversation - You know the one who was in that thing with whatsername - Oh yes, they then did thingummy and that other thing, you know the one with hujumaflip. And so it went on. We know each other well enough to get the drift and work through our senility at the age of 50 something. Simon calls it Alzhsimons.