We had a great evening out yesterday evening with Nick and Lucy. We had talked earlier in the week about inventing some excuse to go out to dinner somewhere but instead Nick decided he would prepare a feast of his usual standards. So, we went over to their place and had a great meal and a great time. Pen was delighted with the fact that we were not going out so that she did not have to make a decision about what to have. Nick then announced that, in fact, she did have to make a choice – beef fillet or fish cakes. Clearly being incapable of making a choice, she and I had both! And let me tell you, they were both fantastic, garnished as they were with a pickled pepper and tomato type of salsa-like side which was excellent. And, the dark chocolate and raspberry tart for pudding was sensational! A very pleasant evening with very pleasant company. And the service was pretty good as well.

Whilst at Nick’s we had an interesting conversation about our respective gym encounters and this morning, having just returned from our regular Sunday morning expedition, I’m now in a position to confirm his observations, I think.

Most Sundays, I go to the gym with the lovely Ms Playchute and ride one of the stationary bikes while she does a class called “Body Pump” which involves lifting weights and doing various routines in time with some music. As I am riding my bike I inevitably look around and invent nicknames for the various other occupants of the gym, each doing their particular routine. The ones lifting weights in front of the mirror I tend to discount and ignore; instead I look around for kindred souls who are fat, overweight and bald and compare my Adonis-like figure to theirs. One of my favourites is “Sweat Man” who is about five feet tall and five feet wide who, to be fair, exercises vigorously and, as you might have guessed, sweats profusely. So, whenever Sweat Man is around, I spur myself on to ride my bike even more vigorously so that, when compared to him I will indeed appear to be not only svelte and graceful but exceedingly fit.

Another regular, who actually has not been around for some weeks, I have to confess I gave the somewhat less than politically-correct nickname of “Gay Boy” largely because of his propensity to follow me around on all the exercises and apparatus I would be using. If I was riding a bike, he would hop on the one next door; if I was using one of the resistance machines, he would be sure to place himself in my line of vision and, indeed, when I left the gym to shower and change, chances are he would be there with me. So, perhaps not altogether surprisingly, I came to the conclusion that he quite fancied me.

In fact, Nick has determined that this is not the case at all. Nick reckons that everyone at the gym is really looking for someone to stand next to who will make them look good. So, Gay Boy was not wanting to convey his affection for me but was merely looking to be seen next to this paunchy, bald old guy so that he would look good.

Obviously, mission accomplished.

Love to you all,

Greg

Island Fever

On a chain of beautiful islands in the middle of nowhere, the following people are stranded:

* Two Italian men and one Italian woman.

* Two French men and one French woman.

* Two German men and one German woman.

* Two Greek men and one Greek woman.

* Two British men and one British woman.

* Two Bulgarian men and one Bulgarian woman.

* Two Japanese men and one Japanese woman.

* Two Vietnamese men and one Vietnamese woman.

* Two Irish men and one Irish woman.

* Two American men and one American woman.

One month later, on these absolutely stunning desert islands in the middle of nowhere, the following things have occurred:

* One Italian man killed the other Italian man for the Italian woman.

* The two French men and the French woman are living happily together in a ménage a trois.

* The two German men have a strict weekly schedule of alternating visits with the German woman.

* The two Greek men are sleeping together and the Greek woman is cooking and cleaning for them.

* The two British men are waiting for someone to introduce them to the British woman.

* The two Bulgarian men took one look at the Bulgarian woman and started swimming to another island.

* The two Japanese men have faxed Tokyo and are awaiting instructions.

* The two Vietnamese men have set up a pharmacy, liquor store, restaurant, laundry and nail salon, and have gotten the woman pregnant in order to supply employees for their stores.

* The two Irish men divided the island into north and south and setup a distillery. They do not remember if sex is in the picture because it gets somewhat foggy after a few litres of coconut whiskey. However, they're satisfied because the English aren't having any fun.

* The two American men are contemplating suicide, because the American woman will not shut up and complains relentlessly about her body, the true nature of feminism, what the sun is doing to her skin, how she can do anything they can do, the necessity of fulfilment, the equal division of household chores, how sand and palm trees make her look fat, how her last boyfriend respected her opinion and treated her nicer than they do, and how her relationship with her mother is the root cause of all her problems, and why didn't they bring a damn cell phone so they could call 911 and get them all rescued off this Godforsaken deserted island in the middle of freaking nowhere so she can get her nails done and go shopping.

Out in space two alien forms are speaking with each other.

The first spaceman says, "The dominant life forms on the earth planet have developed satellite-based weapons."

The second alien, who looks exactly like the first, asks, "Are they an emerging intelligence?"

The first spaceman says, "I don't think so...They have them aimed at themselves."

A few years ago the Pope visited New York and was taken around by Henry Kissinger. They visited the Bronx Zoo, and Henry showed the Pope one cage where a lion was with a young lamb, which was snuggled up next to the lion.

The Pope was amazed. "For 2000 years, we've prayed for signs of the messianic era and the prophecy that the lion will lie down next to the lamb. I see you must really be a man of peace. How did you do it?"

Kissinger replied, "It's very easy. All it needs is a new lamb each day."

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