I was just watching this rather disturbing current affairs item on the television and it was going on about obesity, and how 102 % of all Americans are morbidly fat, and health officials are writing-off the current generation as being completely beyond help… as in they are going to die early … and it showed some overweight people walking or cycling across the planet in an attempt not to die early, and it showed the massive servings that Americans get in their restaurants, and I came away from the TV shaking my head and going…

"Mmmm, I feel like getting me some fried chicken."

Goddamn you TV and your subliminal messages!

So hungry.

I’ve been brewing:

Which was inspired, of course, by this little misunderstanding.

Despite some brewing errors, that shit has actually turned out quite tasty.

There's also alcoholic ginger beer:

That’s a Jersey cow, just in case you mistakenly thought, like my wife, that it was a monkey.

It was a crazy red-headed cow that chased me, D-Girl and a Jack Russell dog right out of its paddock. I don’t think it liked having its photo taken.

I’m also about to bottle some home-brew Guinness. I’m going to call it Genniuss.

OK, so it turns out my girls aren’t all Chicken Poxyfied.

Well, the doctor still reckons D-Girl is. Was. But the doctor now thinks D-Missus’ bout of the pox is in fact just hives, which she got from trying to steal honey from bees. Or something.

And, while Baby Ginge has not broken out in spots, she has been extremely whingy, which, it transpires, is due to a very nasty case of tonsillitis.

Hear that?
That’s her crying at the moment.

Time to go be a cradle…