had the 'what happens when your mother finds your blog' scenario over the weekend, and apparently I use too much foul language. I was suitably chastised and felt like a five year old on the wrong end of a scolding. I am in fact, thirty five with two children of my own, and whilst I am glad for people to read the gumph in my thoughts, I am not overly concerned if the content or style caused offence. Like the tv has an off button, your browser has a back one.

I now have to put up with my English chums reminding me that they are the world champions for the next four years, can't wait. Nice to see the Aussies get down over in their own back yard though. Now that's all over it's back to Glaws and the premiership, which is fairly painful viewing at the moment. I would imagine that my rugby viewing will be vastly curtailed by the black hole that is our impending nuptials. I would hazard a guess that I could settle Peru's national debt for less, but I wouldn't get a 'gala buffet' thrown in with that. Be afraid, very afraid. I will constantly whine about the 'stress' and the cost for the next six months with montonous regularity, but the reality is that I am very much looking forward to it ( sniff, kleenex please )