Claws For The Weekend: Romantics Semantics

A Valentine’s Day conversation. It all started with a FB status update:

Just treated Jen to a free coffee in McDonald’s with my stickers. Happy Valentine’s Day people.

Someone commented that she was a spoilt woman.

It could be an all dayer:

I was referred to as the last of the big spenders.

Do you know those thick, juicy Big Mac burgers? Well I might give Jen the gherkin off mine.

Two comments came in about romance not being dead.

How can romance be dead when you can get two hash browns for a quid?

Someone helpfully suggested that we could have whipped up to Iceland (the store, not the country) and got a bag of hash browns for a quid.

I can’t let her cook on today of all days. But thanks for the tip, though. Next year she can do a tray’s worth on the 13th.

And finally a guy I know commented that he’d booked a table for eight and hoped his partner Marge liked snooker!

Don’t believe a word of it, though, we’re all romantics at heart.

Have a good weekend everyone, see you on the flip side.

Hope we’re not all single.

Brave New World

First morning since we left the EU.

Still had no milk for my coffee.

My lad was worried. “Will it mean no more Champion’s League? No more World Cup? No more EUROs?!!!”

In truth I don’t know what it means (beyond my son will still get his football). We’d been a member for all of my life except the first twelve months, and beyond the scare stories and counter-patriotic statements it’s an unknown quantity.

Then, seeing and loving this old photograph, I was reassured that there was a time when we was not a member of the EU.

It is of people waiting at a railway station in Glasgow, 1895.

And I bet the train still hasn’t arrived yet. Some things will never change.