Jesus, its not easy being me, you know? Right. Heres the deal. We have been invited to something called Windsor Castle Royal Tattoo 2009. One imagines it is in Windsor, so we must drive. We get one parking spot per couple which is civilised. Because cabs wont go there and they sure as shit wont be there when we bool out at midnight. And, from memory... A glass of champagne on arrival (I bet its Cava) Canapes (Soft sausage rolls) A three course dinner (carvery - I'll give it a miss) 'Music' from some Tankies (see 'three course dinner' above) Entry to the Members Enclosure (Members? WHAT?) Inclusion in the Royal Enclosure (thats two enclosures. I feel trapped already) A great selection of international military displays rarely seen in the UK (er... erm... isnt that exactly why we put up with The Royal Navy? To prevent a great selection of international military displays rarely seen in the UK?) And then it all gets scary scary. " traditional military music from the combined bands of Life Guards, Scots Guards and Welsh Guards." Fucking tankies again. And their goat 'mascots'. Mascots. Yeah, right. I shall have my dear wife with me. And important business associates. Bankers. Estate Agents. Procurement advisers. Public Relations Consultants. Foreigners. Like that. Important people. I confess my friends, I am afraid. Very afraid. Do goats slobber upon ones Paul Smith suit? Does it wash out? Do they bite? Do tankies? Do tankies goats have fleas? Will they infest my dear wife and clients? And bite them? Will someone volunteer to hold my hand?