Mucho excitemento last night. Icehouse opened for Hall and Oates. Ratty, Alex and I bought tickets months ago, such is our enthusiasm for those who sing our childhood anthems.
We weren't the youngest there, but we were certainly close to it. Ratty and I indulged in some quite serious chair dancing while Alex sat staunchly enjoying the music.
And then it took us a while to get home.
A few days before this I attended Mary's baby shower. I have never before attended such an event and I shall have to admit to some trepidation due to horror stories I have heard of games revolving around poo. Poo and chocolate.
Fortunately, Mary is a lady and so is her sister-in-law. We played nice games and they made what might be described as a fuckload of food. I wallowed. Waddled home.
And ending my week of social was Karen and our day of culture. Picasso and some photo exhibition. Slightly dulling our attempt to be classy and educated were our hangovers and snorts of laughter as we tried to find the man in the Cubist 'Man with mandolin' picture. I found a cityscape that I'm guessing was masquerading as a man with a mandolin. Aside from that, Picasso ain't half bad, man.