Daze of the week

Thursday

It took Tippler's clever Brussels drinking buddy Spanish Goth to point out that the French actually named this day. Although the Brits changed it, the garlic chompers call it 'Jeudi'.

There has been much heated debate recently about who inspired it, but after considerable research - well, five minutes on Google - Tippler can reveal that Jeudi was actually named after an, at the time, young English actress.

Jeudi Dench.

Apparently she'd done something to cheer the Frenchies up. Probably by not playing Jean d'Arc. Anyway, Jeudi is now a Dame (from the French word, natch) and has shored up her reputation with the cheese-eating surrender monkeys by making Queen Victoria look like a right old frump in Mrs Brown and most recently treating Brit uber hero James Bond like a schoolboy caught with a loaded 'catty' in Home Economics. Allez Jeudi! *bites into raw onion*

Other notable Jeudi's include:

Jeudi Foster - actress who famously had spunk thrown at her in Silence of the Lambs by an elephant on her way to watch Hannibal cross the Alps. Or something.

Steve Cram - well-known former middle-distance runner from Gateshead, up there in Jeudi Land. Howay the lads, wy-aye, like.

Tippler's Thursday saw him sneak out yet again through the pathetic security in the Big Blogger house in order to attend the opening of a new Brussels art and music venue. This is called Indigo, but the name has nothing to do with the colour, it's just the French-speaking bruxelloises' idea of an English pun (they do this a lot).

According to one of the owners, the point is that the punters queue up outside from 7.30. At 8pm the doors open and, ho ho, 'In Dey Go'. And at around three in the morning 'Out Dey Come'. Given that the latter doesn't sound like any word in English they went for the former.

Obviously, hein?

This poor excuse for punning went on late into the evening by virtue of the fact that the star of the show was a gifted musician named Bai Kamara. He and his band somewhat predictably left the stage to enthusiatic cries of 'Bai, then. See you next time!' This passes for humour in St Gilles, 1060 Bruxelles. On a rit, bien. Comme la vache.

Anyway, despite this, a good time was had by all. At least until Laura threw a drink over my soon-to-be-a-rock-star stalker Iva the Diva.

No harm done though, it was a free bar.

Friday

As you all know, or could probably guess, this day of the week is named after everybody's favourite employee.

Yes, Girl Friday.

Blessed with 120 words-per-minute shorthand AND typing, Girl Friday also makes the best coffee in the company, doesn't mind popping out for sandwiches in high heels, possesses tact, wit and charm in phenomenal degrees and is gifted with formidable organisational skills as well as diary-keeping savvy par excellence.

Oh, and a monster pair of tits. Which are always on show close to the photocopier at office parties and during occasional late-night 'meetings' with the boss. What would we do without her? No wonder they named a day after the wench.

Other notable Friday's include:

Fish 'n' chip Fry Day - actually a misprunt, of course, as popularised by blokes from the east and west coasts of England. But especially the Jeudis. Example - 'Wy aye, man. Let's gerrus a fish suppa, like. Oh aye, and a bottle o' Newcie Broon or seven. Fookin' greet!' Etcetera.

Thank fuck it's... Friday. The end of the week and the time when every bloke in the workforce has a pocketful of cash, is thirsty as hell and after three Newcie Broons laughably fancies his chances with the hot girl in the office. (See Girl Friday, above.)

Oh, and lest we forget, Man Friday - the same as Girl Friday but without the tits and high heels. Reassuringly 'sensitive', however, and good with colours and a duster. Knows his way around desert islands.

Tippler's Friday was actually spent in a non-stop early-morning shag fest with L, who had snuck into the BB house with Yours Truly through the tunnel. I smacked her arse and hoofed her out later for not shaving properly, though. Honestly, some women. But, as The Cure said: 'It's Friday, I'm in love.'

Anyway, as you can imagine, I'm fucking knackered and off to bed with a bottle of chilled Chenin Blanc, a hookey version of the new Harry Potter movie and a giant-sized Mars Bar.

Just mind your own business about the confectionery, alright?