Jen, I haven’t made it yet. Yesterday was supposed to be the day but Mr Problem is traditional about his Easter dinner and wanted an apple pie instead. Next Sunday though, for sure. It looks fabulous. I tried to leave a comment over at your’s the other day but your site rejected me.

Kara, it was the timiest of times.

Belle, hellos to you too, m’darlin’.

Rand’ I was worried you might have floated off in these horrendous floods. MO looks to have had it the worst.

Cheers.

Hope you enjoy the pudding – it’s a good ‘un

“…a young mohicanned man with a belly full of Guinness and an accent more impenetrable than Mother Theresa?s knickers…” I will have to stop reading your blog posts when I’ve got the cat on my lap; the poor thing jumped half a foot.

I once showered next to a woman with a great bristling Mohawk in a youth hostel in Amsterdam. I couldn’t actually see her (or vice versa, thank God), but I could see her spikes. She had a devil of a time sleeping with them too, from the looks of things.

Medbh, it was.

Sav, you’re lovely, know that? It was fun reliving it to write it out.

Eolai, it was a question of getting up there, doing the business and then getting the hell back to my seat as quickly as possible.

Conan, trollied people there were but nobody went off them. ‘Twas a super night.

Fmc, I basked in your glow baby. Before I broke the bloody thing. I have no idea how that happened. I was in my hotel room, took the award out, noticed blood on my thumb having not felt a thing, and then discovered the shard in my bag. I must have banged my bag off a wall on the way home or something. All I had to do was not break the thing. You’d think I could have managed that, eh.

Twenty, but you didn’t have to take the puppy’s ears as a trophy, you bastard.

Apprentice, Embra would be smashing for a blogmeet! The next time I’m over we’ll have to arrange something.

Bock, to be fair to the old lady though, Twenty had just told her her scones were so heavy they could sink ducks. He was asking for it. The puppy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Collateral damage.

Pat, I’m lobbying for a larger badge font next year. And for the good of your own health you must try and get the ginger chumlies out of your mind. It’s what she wants you know, to ginger snap our brains. She’s sick.

Manuel, we should be honoured and delighted to have you visit Rancho Problemo. Any time, hun.

Sniffle, got it. Nothing in the world to apologise, m’darlin’ .

Manuel Estimulo, my mistake. It makes far more sense that she was just an innocent sitter-by. Yes, now I come to think of it, she did mention something about being an innocent sitter-by. Come in to dry off from the rain, as I recall. Filthy weather it was.

ha ha ha. Is the second time you make the mistake! Was not my wife. Is well known everywhere that I am bachelor straight.