Masked Marauder

To the famous Tuckers Maltings Beer Festival last night, where great fun was had by all. Even the famous Gottle dropped by for a swift half. M, as usual, took a bottle of Chardonnay flavoured beer, neatly decanted into two plastic bottles (yes it does look like urine), because she doesnt like Beer. Fortunately, this time nobody questioned her on what sort of ultra pale real ale she was drinking.
If there is one thing about beer festivals, it is that they attract eccentrics. I knew I could have got away with wearing my new Basque-style black floppy cap/beret. but M wouldn't let me.
The journey back on the train was enlivened by the presence of a local MP (in fact, the Minister of State at DEFRA, so not to be sneezed at), on his way back from a meeting in Totnes. In fact, I lived in his constituency when he first got elected back in '97, and have met him once or twice. M quite fancies him, but I dont think her feminine charms would convert him;-) He was charm itself and gratefully accepted a glass of our take-out Bishop's Tipple. A thoroughly nice man, and I only had a dig about Iraq as we were getting off, at which he seemed embarassed (Iraq, not the dig). Cheers, Ben.

While M, and our chums Bruce and Sue, went into town for a takeaway curry (M says thanks by the way), I went home to switch the lights on, put a wash on etc. Then I thought "there's that bloody graffiti down the end of the street, that some oiks had put on the newly painted white garden wall at the dentists. Why dont I get the can of white paint which is just over there in the corner, and paint over it? It's been bothering me for weeks." So I did.
Bizarrely, as the others came back, they noticed the graffiti had gone (it stood out quite a lot, even in the dark), and they thought "I bet Andy has done that. It looks wet". And lo, they thought right. So sod you, "Rhino Boys". The Masked Marauder, sworn enemy of graffiti and dropped litter, strikes again. Bwa ha ha ha