Prosthetic doofer upset

I had no idea when I woke on Friday that the day would end with a fat Rod Stewart impersonator poking me in the arm with his leopard-skin-lycra-clad prosthetic penis while singing 'you're in my heart'. Though it was a bit traumatic being poked by this man I did feel sort of sorry for him. In between songs he had quite a mournful facial expression and looked quite upset that the audience weren't entirely taken with his brand of comedy singing (In case you are wondering what comedy singing might involve: imagine a man singing 'Crying' in a Roy Orbison wig and dark glasses which emit tears over the audience every time he sings the word 'crying').There is something about old fashioned club turns that makes me feel I am watching a dead-pan narrated BBC 2 documentary featuring shots of divorced fathers taking the kids to MacDonalds on Saturday.

In other surprise news I was delighted to receive a parcel on Thursday. It was only nine months ago that my brother posted me some Christmas presents so they weren't much tardier than the usual Parker sibling birthday gifts. Oddly, there was no damage to the parcel, no note attached apologising for it having gotten lost under a table in Milton Keynes for nine months. I celebrated its arrival by putting the Johnny Cash Christmas album that I found within it straight on the stereo. So now I can say what I say every year record-breakingly early. Eeeeeee, I can't wait for Christmas!