Treelogy

Poor Finn.
It's getting all too much.

His birthday (well, we actually conveniently forgot to tell him last Monday - but he must have picked the vibe)

His birthday party with his family. Yesterday. With Nana and Pepe and Champagne (not for him) and 7UP for him (unfortunately. Is it cut with cocaine?!). And a new garage for his cars. And new cars for his garage. And Lego to the point that Dad sees Lego assembly manuals when he closes his eyes at night... (they are better than the f%$** Ikea ones...)

His birthday party with his mates from school. Today. I am so incredibly sorry that I could not make it to the shed with 1,250 midgets on acid with shell-shocked parents. The joy of birthday parties in Hyperactivity Centers... Someone had to keep an eye on the Luca (we watched Naked Gun, I felll asleep halfway through and he laughed his arse off... a win-win situation)

And then the Christmas Tree!
Yes! It has finally arrived! EUR40 for the bastard thing. Your man wanted EUR55 to start with. I had to remind him that I am not Bono (it's the last time I buy a Christmas tree in Dalkey). But the guys who used to sell trees in my neighbourhood must have been jailed for tax evasion.

While the the Energy Regulator remains a well-respected member of his tossers' community, after approving another electricity price hike at a time when crude oil prices are going down. I wonder what the fucker's annual wage is. I can feel a cost-cutting proposal coming for the overburdened Irish taxpayers. Fat chance of that one ever seeing the light of day...

Anyway, back to Finnzy-Bob.
With all this excitement, he is bond to feel utterly exhausted.

Exhausted my fluffy arse... He'll be up at 6.00 AM to raid his advent calendars.

Bah humbug...