tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post5482232510421630881..comments2008-04-28T14:22:41.304-07:00Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15855325002260654089miss_mudpie@yahoo.co.ukBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-28844224078248963832008-04-28T14:22:00.000-07:002008-04-28T14:22:00.000-07:002008-04-28T14:22:00.000-07:00That forcibly reminded me of the time my flatmates saw a girl going down on a boy through their window.<BR/>She hadn't drawn the curtains.<BR/>You'd think maybe she would have thought of that.debauched. not me personally.noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-77378183890874372022008-04-28T05:10:00.000-07:002008-04-28T05:10:00.000-07:002008-04-28T05:10:00.000-07:00Only YOU would notice that. I was thinking how glamorous and slim you are and how you always show me up! <BR/>Oh, forgot to say, I was at the office gym and saw Roberto Viel on TV giving a woman a lunchtime boob job. they were showing the blood and gory stuff and she was awake the whole time. he is one of the Viel brothers who work in London - he used to give me Botox before he got famous. It was on GMTV (the show with Fern on) if they let you re-run it from their website.Elizabethnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-76246623523322917522008-04-28T02:02:00.000-07:002008-04-28T02:02:00.000-07:002008-04-28T02:02:00.000-07:00My arm looks a little bingo wingish. I will have to cut out that Paris pose!!Paulanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-7473056894586790462008-04-27T13:10:00.000-07:002008-04-27T13:10:00.000-07:002008-04-27T13:10:00.000-07:00I googled it and it looks like a Greek place. Tom and I had dinner down there once, but I can't remember which restaurant we went to. Anyway, with your wild in-laws you'll all be swaying under the influence of ouzo, and shouting "Opaaa!" like native Greeks. I'll ask Tom if we dare.lisanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-86062703923484617512008-04-27T09:30:00.000-07:002008-04-27T09:30:00.000-07:002008-04-27T09:30:00.000-07:00PS<BR/>But beware that my in-laws are WILD!Elizabethnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-26945439211562949822008-04-27T09:29:00.000-07:002008-04-27T09:29:00.000-07:002008-04-27T09:29:00.000-07:00I can see, Lisa, that you are just itching to arrange a dinner meeting at Cockfosters just to check the racy 'burg out again. <BR/><BR/>The restaurants there are v. good. We passed by a Greek place there called the Blue Olive that is apparently highly recommended. We're going there on the 10th of May so Mikey can go to his fave town again. If you are all around, maybe you should come along? We booked the 7 o'clock sitting.Elizabethnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-2113871874779936342008-04-27T09:16:00.000-07:002008-04-27T09:16:00.000-07:002008-04-27T09:16:00.000-07:00I'm just one junction before that from the M25, and then straight north on the A1M for 15 minutes. I feel like I live a long way from you, but since you go farther than that for dinner, I might need to revise my thinking. ;-)<BR/><BR/>I have to confess that when we first moved to Hertfordshire I was a bit curious about Cockfosters too. Then I drove through it once and was thoroughly cured of any racy notions.<BR/><BR/>The real allure of the place is that you can get on the Piccadilly line there, and emerge at Heathrow without changing trains, in what feels like 6 or 7 hours.lisanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491125679904809656.post-11049863284372189372008-04-27T06:11:00.000-07:002008-04-27T06:11:00.000-07:002008-04-27T06:11:00.000-07:00I wish I'd gone. I would have had hours of fun laughing at the name.<BR/>Hours.Katienoreply@blogger.com