Parental season hits

This is proving a very fruitful week in terms of having dinners provided for me.

June seems to be parental season in Paris, with various progenitors coming by car or aeroplane and returning with belongings bestowed upon them by the offspring who, having completed their university course, will also soon make their merry way back to Britain. This is the third opportunity I have had to witness the phenomenon. Lady Franchester's mother was the latest of the batch, and tagging along with her was the current holder of the award for the Most Irish Woman in the World. This resulted in a great deal of free beer on Sunday, and a large meal on Monday in what became a second birthday party. Which meant I slept on the floor again, and found this life-affirming again. Olly and David chose this occasion to embark on a 48hr binking dringe, which was doubtless life-affirming as well.

Final preparations are now underway for the arrival of the Timberparents, at 17h23CET, Monday. My bedroom is unrecognisable, which some of you may note is a synonym for "tidy".

Meanwhile Liverpool have released the £5m-worth of heroically bumbling mess that was Igor Biscan. I am upset. He will now presumably sign for some upper-midtable Italian or Spanish side and prove that he was actually a brilliant player all along (cf. Savo Milosevic, Dejan Kovacevic, Diego Forlan).

I (gor) just (Bis) can't believe it!

Look at him there, isn't he brilliant? Oh well, in an unrelated consolation, at least Ukraine are going to qualify for a major tournament.