It's been a while since I updated you on our friend Roy's never-ending mid-life crisis. I take it that you are still interested, mes amis?
Well, to cut a long story short, after several (did I say disastrous?) blind dates through desperado.com, hundreds of miles driven around the country, one date whose 12 year old spoiled daughter decided that he wasn't "the one" and several hundred pounds less in his moth-eaten wallet, our boy Roy has finally found love. The lady in question lives in Scotland and apparently this 'new town' where she lives is the best thing since sliced bread - "a lovely place to live", says Roy. I think he lives in Pixie Land myself. I won't mention the name of the town but if you've seen the film Gregory's Girl, then you've got it.
Roy, who never spend a penny on his long suffering soon-to-be-ex-wife, Wilma, has been spending £50 a week sending flowers up to his new love. Might I just mention that Roy is still living in the same house as Wilma and the divorce lawyers have not even had the chance to have a handbags at dawn session yet.
In the meantime, another older lady that he apparently wooed when he was feeling a bit desperate has been sending him texts telling him that she loves him and misses him. Problem is that Roy is friendly with her man, PJ, and do you know what he did? He phoned PJ, and asked him to tell Beryl to stop sending him texts. I think Roy is a bit of a dimwit sometimes. Beryl could still turn out to be a bit of a bunny boiler.
So anyway, back to Scotland. Roy is spending a lot of time up there with his new love. Says the weather is fantastic and it's a grand place to live. He said this on the same day my sister phoned me from Glasgow and told me that they had horizontal rain and gale force winds. He is also talking marriage already, although as mentioned above, his divorce is still pending. All his friends think he is "bloody noots" (that's how they say nuts in Yorkshire).
More later, mes amis.