A really poor Secret Millionaire last night. Just didn't press any buttons for me I'm afraid.
Thursday night I took the Lady Captain of the Hilton Templepatrick Golf Club to the Bingo. We were on our way to see Grand Torino at Yorkgate but muggins got the time wrong by a good hour. Rather than return to the Pizza Hut we piled into the Bingo Hall next to the cinema found out what to do at the reception paid our £10, was assured we wouldn't win and took our seats.
Apparently you don't shout "Bingo" anymore if you do win but "Jack". It's all changed since gran dragged me along to her MCN bingo opening nite to claim free rashers of bacon zonks ago. The caller doesn't shout two fat ladies 88 anymore. This might be because there's an awful lot of them in the audience nowadays. I've never seen so many rotund people in the same place in my life. The two sat at the table to our right told us they come twice a week spend an estimated £30 and never win!
We left with the guy on reception glancing us a "I told you so" smile and watched Gran Torino. This is a good movie with a great actor (Clint Eastwood) on superb form. Problem is surround a man giving a masterclass and all else look very ordinary and occasionally inept. I wonder if he ever thought during the movie he'd have to play it down or spoil his own film.
I spent much of the weekend cycling with neighbours to various parts of the Antrim globe. Currently reading a selection of Chekov short plays - another master of his profession.
About to race home now to master the kitchen and a good veggie bake.
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