Friday

Its Friday, what an evocative term. It means so much to so many and yet the expectation that swirls around this 24 hour segment of the week is normally based on hazy memories from your delightful youth.

The frisson of excitement that the middle aged office worker feels as morning drifts into afternoon on a cold Friday has nothing to do with the additional traffic on the way home, the thought of a fish and chip supper or even the vague hope that there will be something on telly worth staying up past nine for..(although not something that runs on too late, cos then you would then be tired and have to deal with kids swimming on a Saturday in a foul mood, which would in turn reap havoc with your spousal relationship resulting in harsh comments about your parental suitability and generally downgrade your weekend experience). And everything to do with the teenage hormones that used to pump through the body at the thought of a Pernod & black, maybe a cheeky snakebite and (god-willing) a hazy fumble & snog in a club followed by a cheeky one back some place because the parents are away.

I have managed, due mainly to a life spent in military service (which for information - has a Peter Pan like effect on behaviour when it comes to binge drinking like a teenager and dealing with social issues), to maintain some currency with my Friday evening expectations and can still, occasionally, be found dino-minging of an evening with the added bonus that due to a willing spouse the sexual antics are all but guaranteed....although it can be difficult to get her to dress like a Goth and hang out round the back of clubs looking 18 and tetchy...


An ideal Goth look for a spouse...

P.S Peter Pan effects are many and varied - check out the link above for a simple example...to be discussed at a later date...an evolutionary path the hog will not be taking (although Tinkerbell is sweet).