#0140. WEDDINGS I'M NOT INVITED TO THAT I DIDN'T WANT TO GO TO ANYWAY.

To be honest I'm not all that fussed about going to your wedding, whoever you are. (No offence Dave.) But if I find out that you don't want me there, I swear to god I will move heaven and earth to make sure I somehow wangle an invite.

Emotional blackmail, family feuding, generic moodiness, I won't rest until I've forced you into begrudgingly having that "Oh god, for the sake of an easy life shall we just invite him?" conversation. And all to make sure I can be a part of your very special day that I'm actually not all that arsed about.

Because frankly that's the kind of mate I am.

#0139. THE WAY GAYS ARE ALLOWED TO GROPE THEIR FEMALE FRIENDS AND WATCH THEM GET CHANGED AND THAT.

And yet when I do it, it gets all, "Oh, that's really creepy and inappropriate, I think you should just leave, and now I'm in a really difficult position because I don't know whether to tell your girlfriend or not. Anyway, you're not even really my friend, you're just a mate of Jason's and I only met you about two hours ago. No seriously, stop touching them."

It's a double standard, plain and simple.

#0138. OPENING THE TOILET CUBICLE DOOR TO DISCOVER THIS...

What does this mean? Is it some kind of internationally recognised toilet-based emergency symbol that I don't know about?

Seriously, what kind of mess do you have to make to get to the stage where you think, "I'm not even going to try the toilet brush on that one. In fact, I've no choice but to construct some kind of makeshift warning symbol to ward away future toilet-goers."

And it stank.

#0137. THE WAY MY NAN CAN NEVER ADMIT WHEN SHE'S FALLEN OVER.

There is no greater disgrace for an old woman than to fall over. It's the OAP equivalent of being caught having sex with a child. If my nan were a samurai, the moment she wiped-out she'd reach for her Katana blade and slice open her own stomach.

Which might explain why it is that, having fallen over in what seems like slow-motion (my nan tripping over is a bit like a computer simulation of the Titanic going down) she instantly springs back to her feet. And so, the great cover-up begins.

ME: Oh my god nan, are you OK?

NAN: Yes thanks.

ME: You didn't hurt yourself?

NAN: When sorry?

ME: When you fell over? Just now?

NAN: Mmm?

ME: You fell.

NAN: Who did sorry?

ME: Oh I get it, OK. Well, I know. So.

Seriously, next time she goes over, I'm filming it.