Where was the bunting, eh? Where were the crowds of well-wishers?
Nothing, nada, not une saucisse. Just a pile of Sadscenes big enough to build a tower block with, 497 pizza menus, a two inch layer of pussy fluff everywhere, and a couple of desiccated purrer's nests under the lounge room rug. What a welcome.
I thought Angela was popping in every day to look after Bertie. Come to think of it, where is Bertie?