Wilt no sooner hops off one plane and onto another on contract work – hardly time to unpack and yet again returns on another flight and is hoisted, ungentleman- like into the back of the Range Rover by Mrs Wilt intent upon us having a relaxing weekend in North Wales, together with Salty Dog and Ms Wilt.
Boy, is it sunny here and the cider is flowing – Salty Dog however is on rations as the beast is getting, by far, too great a large tummy. The wee beast is also on probation following the revelation that it is running its own restaurant and bar. What the fuck is going on, we ask?
Whilst away our not so friendly Elizabeth has been causing havoc, see http://regulatorwatch.co.uk/2010/08/we-are-back-and-with-a-vengence/ but dear Salty Dog in my absence sorted that out. It was only on my return that I discovered all the hassle. Perhaps I will relax on the beasts planned diet (cider) conditions, in reply to its legal work.
Wilt