Twelfth Night At Smallington Towers

This happened a few days back, as you can probably guess from the title.

We were invited by Matt and Jo to a bit of a do at Matt's place in the exotic foreign climes of Plymouth. In the photo (from l-r) are a bald git, Jo in her famous "boobs akimbo" top, Matt standing at full height to reach the coffee table, Liz (one of Matt's colleagues and friends) and Royston (an old mate of Matt's). More people did arrive, but by the time they had, the camera had been returned to its hiding place.

The Christmas tree was, perhaps past its best (check out the trendy angle of its uppermost reaches). The log fire was kept burning and a jolly good time was had by all.

The mulled wine was strong and yummy, and Jo had prepped and provided an excellent spread of scran. Nicky did partake of a plateload,but after a double burger at The Union Rooms earlier, any further eating was out of the question for me.

Royston kept us all amused in his, apparently usual, larger-than-life style (the room was much quieter after his early departure to do something or other with his other half). I look forward to a return match at sometime on the future, I had a whale of a time exchanging insults and ganging up on Matt with him. Something of an unfair contest sizewise (Royston is a big jellymould of a chap and I'm not exactly tiny), but the onslaught was purely verbal and generally centred on Matt's diminutive stature. I fear we may be big bad bullies.

We were very pleased to be invited to visit Lilliput at long last and hope we've not blotted our copybook too much with the short jokes. We'd like to be allowed back sometime.