Bathe Me in Bleach and Burn My Clothes.

That's right I'm back in London where they have locks on their doors and working Internet connections. My priorities now are really having a bath, having dinner and then going to bed.

Obviously I don't want to tell you too much about the wedding because as you may have guessed from the lack of a magazine deal it was pretty much a private affair. However it was a simple Church of England ceremony during which neither I nor the two gay couples in attendence burst into flames. This was followed by a reception at a hotel with a sit-down dinner, a wedding DJ in the evening and lots and lots of drinking. Things ended at around 23:00GMT.  The giant splint on my finger meant I was largely avoided by the vast number of doctors who attended and didn't want to get dragged into work conversations. The groom though did introduce me to supposedly one of the best hand surgeons in London. Unfortunately shortly after being introduced to the groom's very Irish cousins he decided he was a leprechaun and was last seen gently rolling down a hill into a lavender bush. So much to the alarm of the hotel staff who'd clearly been warned about my reputation I was actually one of the better behaved guests.

Oh and I am a bit p*ssed off they've changed the signs at East Croydon railway station. The old ones used to read; "Home of Fairfield Halls."

16:30 on 19/5/13.

Edited at around 20:25 on 19/5/13 to add;

Actually thinking about it a magazine deal might not have been a bad idea because the explosion in Newark, Nottinghamshire, UK has reminded me that the G8 Summit is taking place in northern Ireland this year. So I should explain;

The groom's father is my mother's brother meaning that he was born in London, UK making him an English Catholic. He went on to marry a Protestant woman from a part of the Irish Republic that is so rural and so Irish it was literally used as the exterior scenes in the BBC1 TV show "Ballykissangel." Therefore the English cousins are the ones with the Irish names while the Irish cousins are the ones with the English names. As a result when we get together and try to work out how we know each other there are frequent references to 'an incident during the civil war' and everyone moves on without saying much more about about these various incidents. Normally this shouldn't be a problem but on this occasions some of the Irish cousins stood up and gave a toast in Gaelic. This was actually a very moving traditional wedding toast that talks about how we are born into a family before going on to live our lives alone until we meet that special person, join together and go on to raise our own family.

The problem is this toast makes lots of references to "ourselves alone." Along with "Slainte" which means "Cheers" this is probably the most known Gaelic phrase to non-Gaelic speakers because it translates as "Sinn Fein" - the name of the political party that has long sought to end British rule in northern Ireland. As for the bride's family after dealing with mine I didn't really get the chance to say hello. However I'm guessing English Protestants and lower level Freemasons.

While I'm here I should also point out that along with me and the two gay couples neither the Muslim nor the Jew burst into flames during the ceremony. However I think it was a bit of a faux pas to seat me (Simon) and the Jew (Simon) back to back on different tables without first introducing us to each other because this only led to us staring at each other confused every time a loud and drunken voice rang out "Simon!" from across the room. My main faux pas was not introducing the not very observant Muslim to the not very observant Jew before she started telling a very loud, drunken and possibly made up stories about her relatives in India views on Israel. This led to the Jew being treated to some very random and very choice phrases while he was trying to have a heart to heart with his equally drunken gentile fiance.

So yeah like I said; "Syria - peice of piss(!)"

Edited again at around 03:45 on 20/5/13 to add;

As the surgeon fell the anaesthetist shouted; "Don't Worry. We have a dog that will sh*t on command!" But sadly that west highland never could rise to the occasion. I blame #Shin #Bet.