Saturday - the day of champions, royals & footballers
That feeling when you wake up on a Saturday morning… no hangover, birds singing, blue skies, beautiful view of the river. Actually that sounds like a fantastic advert for something – (watch this space) Anyway, this gloficious feeling of calmness and serenity was not experienced by 2 members of our wonderous household this weekend, our wonderful Aussie R waking up and feeling like a bull elephant has climbed inside her pretty head was a rather remarkable sight to behold when strolling to the kitchen for a cup of tea at 10:30am. Thankfully this is not quite at the level of #pandora’sbox pain R reached on my birthday in which throwing up carrots and popcorn the following day, there was a moment of near death experience of genuine primal fear when a carrot got stuck in R’s nose panic ensued and near death experience was foiled by the gargantuan vegetable delicately extricating itself from R’s naval cavity. This Saturday morning was a less dangerous affair and a sore head was the only apparent qualm, a morning of slovenliness and pure unadulterated slothing in #onesies was to come. C leaves at 11 ish to meet her beautiful –should definitely be in the OC – mother for a brunch in #cotebrasserie in South Ken. Leaving R and myself to our decadent and faintly disgusting ingestion of infinite amounts of butter popcorn and somewhat questionable Doritos. R man’s up and is in need of black trousers. Making the rash decision to head to Kensington high street I hastily shower and pretend I need a new coat (never could a statement be less true) and trotter to a rather wonderful boutique shop in Battersea sq. Having decided on the walk there that what is actually needed is of course increasing supplies of food to give us the energy to walk home, R and I decide that meeting in #bluebird for a late lunch is clearly a plan of #blackadder cunning proportions. 1 navy dress coat and a rather fabulous #chanel power suit later and I am heading to bluebird, somehow late (never acceptable behaviour) to meet, Aussie R, Irish R, MM, Aussie L and James who could not look more like a pimp if he tried. Alcohol fumes are still billowing out of James’s eyes at this late stage of the afternoon and he is quite clearly in need of a daiquiri – powering through this however he manages a proper lunch (nothing compares to Irish R’s full chicken and ‘salad’). 2 very entertaining chaps who have quite evidently based their entire beings on dizzee rascal are drunkenly arsing around the bluebird outside area, initially they are highly amusing and just utterly ridiculous. Upon trying to speak with R and in some way make our table feel guilty about the food we are eating (admittedly a large amount) their temporary charm was lost on R, dizzeerascalA was lucky to escape with a severe ice stare and dizzeerascalB was extremely lucky to escape with his face intact. R turning into the #queenofhearts temporarily was a rather delectable sight and deserves annotation of its own. Dizzeerascal muppets were of the ignorant and presumptuous variety, in the interests of not being completely controversial I shall leave their heritage to your imagination. Deciding that bluebird’s normal atmosphere was lost for today, our two Aussies headed to the #hackneyfoodmarket which by all accounts was sensational. The rest of our motley crew headed to R’s for afternoon tea. More food was there to be consumed. Meeting TB at Sloane station – having an extremely rushed shower and spending the next 2 hours pretending to cook worked relatively well. C, C’s beautiful mother, TB and I decided drinks (gin, gin and oh wait, more gin) and hummus were the way forwards (always correct) the I proceeded to attempt chicken wrapped in bacon with goats cheese, stuffed peppers and roast vegetables. Unlike valentines day I actually remember cooking so it was already a comparative win. Delicious food, bed early and the only Saturday in living history of not being in #bungabunga. Kate and wills were there and missed out on some storming bunga antics from Aussie R but seeing as she ran into #davidbeckham in #wholefoods the following day she wasn’t overly upset. R is leaving us to go home to Perth (tears will run like the river of ancient Babylon #thelongestyard) as bunga has completely and utterly destroyed her liver and the aussies just cannot handle their alcohol like the pomms. She may not have met our most popular royal members but having met a footballer apparently the Aussies will be much more impressed with that. Preferring a footballer to kate and wills, you’d never know Aussies are descended from British convicts ;) the above is in jest