We have 3 ovens. There, I’ve said it. Now you know. Because I eat a lot. Because we cook a lot. Because we cook big. Because ovens were on sale that day. Or, because now and again we get ‘the (extended) family’ over for dinner and there’s not enough room in one oven. Or two. And we had the fucking room, so why wouldn’t everyone have 3 ovens? And even if we don’t often use all three ovens, we very frequently use the timers that each one has. Boil an egg? Well set a timer for 8 minutes (10 is WAY too long, 7 is pathetically insufficient). Ah, that timer’s in use; Mel’s timing a tumble dry and the machine’s own timer hasn’t worked since Lila was born. (Should have had 3 tumble dryers, maybe, hmmm…) And in precicely 10 minutes I need to do… something special, and I’ll forget, because I do. Set a timer.

Then I sit down for breakfast, write some of this, read the paper, eat a banana, make more tea… and a beeper goes off. Ahhhh, the timer. But what for? Which was that? Is my egg ready? Is my towel dry? Do I need to… whatever the fuck I was supposed to be attending to???? WHICH WAS WHICH??? And in this morning’s confusion, at the sound of the beep I shlepped the bedsheets out of the tumbler AND turned off the eggs. Only to get another beep 4 minutes and 17 seconds later. Oh. Better put the egg back on then…

First world problems.

Then I got an email from Rishi Sunak. Honest, from him, himself, ‘personally’ and signed ‘Rishi xxx’ an’ everything. ‘Dear Andrew…’ it started. Only my mum called me Andrew and she died 10 years ago, God rest her wonderful soul. Ok, telesales people do too. So when the phone goes and they ask for ‘Andrew’, its either my mum re-incarnate or someone selling me life insurance, offering me a class action law-suit or telling me my computer’s been hacked and they need to hack it themselves, what’s your pin number? But this was the Prime Minister of the whole of England, parts of Ireland, most of Wales and (for the time being) Scotland. And he was asking for money. His exact words, if I could ‘chip in’. 100 quid, maybe 50, right down to a fiver. To help his God-forsaken, scandalised, sexually harassed, serially incompetent political party help us keep the nation free from Kier Starmer (bad) and Angela Rayner (much worse). G’wan, Andrew, chip in fifty quid, mate, g’wan.

Rishi Sunak, net worth about 750 million quid, asking AndREW Conway, net worth about £632.47 plus 3 ovens, for a hand-out. There was no box which specifically said “FUCK OFF!!!”, so I had to create my own.

Happy Friday

A xxxx