Pither - The Return

I have been putting life on hold for a few days and decided last night to get even more distance between myself and reality by spending the evening over in Big Town East with my uber-pals Ed Straker and Lady Di.
Their house is actually an unlicensed drop-in centre and creche for the people of the area and last night it was in full use. I arrived to find it packed to the rafters with scores of childreny-type things, all running around with rubber tomahawks, squawking and generally trying to get as dirty as possible.
The scene of bedlam was completed when I was greeted by Ed, sporting an interesting and rather fetching head wound. "Oh, yeah. I was trying to make a staff for the lad because he is playing Little John in a school production of Robin Hood. I stamped on the branch in the middle to break it but both the ends came up and smacked me on the head." Could 'appen! It's comforting to know somone else is as inept at DIY as I am.
Mrs Straker was sparked out in an armchair, trying to have a snooze after another long day running the National Health Service, but not getting much rest as three or four urchins were crawling all over her.
I was soon surrounded by the army of tiny terrors who, coaxed on by Ed, found much mirth in an extremely stylish, fire-retardant, polyester, action-sports T-shirt I was wearing. "Reg has knitted a jumper, Reg has knitted a jumper!" the mantra went - ALL NIGHT.
Us adults decamped to the garden and were soon joined by the neighbours and two other visitors, all of whom are rapidly becoming good friends, owing to my regular visits to the House of Straker. We spent the evening drinking while sheltering under a large parasol from a near-monsoon, all the time muttering things such as "I don't care if it's bloody raining. It's bloody July and we're supposed to be out in the bloody garden so sod getting bloody soaked!"
As the wine flowed, along with a selection of superb ales from the nearby Best Off-Licence In The World, we managed to cover all the crucial topics of the day (all readers' views gratefully accepted, by the way). I think you can see how the conversation developed, and almost count the number of bottles consumed by the time each subject was reached, from the following chronological list:
1. Would WE have won the war if the Americans hadn't joined in?
2. Did British imperialism ever benefit anyone other than the British?
3. Are the Potteries beautiful and populated by some of the finest people on the planet or are they just the place where God would stick the tube if he wanted to give the world an enema?
4. Is it acceptable in the 21st Century to hate the French?
5. What is it like to date Eddie the Eagle Edwards for a week (yes, one of our number had actually done that).
6. What was Eddie the Eagle called in his younger days? (Eddie the Egret? Eddie the Egg?)
7. How useful a form of protest against the NHS is it for one to have ones bottom tattooed with the words "In the event of an accident I do not wish to be taken to Barnsley General Hospital" (yes, a friend of one of our number had had that done).
8. Isn't it annoying how one or two setbacks can spoil the otherwise laughter-packed event which is a family funeral?
8. Would you invite Judy Garland to your aunty's funeral?
9. Where, exactly, on a slabbed patio is the stylus from a mini-computer/phone likely to land when wrenched from its hideyhole and what are the chances of locating it in the dark?
10. Is there more to life than big breasts?
11. Did Lisa leave her keys in the front door when she came out or in the pub she visited before calling round and how, exactly, is she going to get back in?
12. How does one appear to be genuinely willing to walk Lisa home to make sure she gets in safely even though it would mean getting piss-wet through and you have lost the ability to move anyway and just want to go to bed?
During the heated debate which surrounded one or two topics I chose to opt out and spent the time instead making yet another friend - she is truly beautiful, belongs to the neighbours and is named after the clotted cream county:

With her on board, I am now, more than ever, able to say in true Daily Mail fashion that I am not a racist because I have black friends, having becoming very close to another resident of the House of Straker some months ago:

Yes, a truly magical evening. I was awoken early this morning by a band of screaming banshees in the form of little people who had also stayed the night. Before I was allowed to leave I was presented with a note......and a problem to solve:

So, where do you buy yo-yos? I am back at the House of Straker next weekend for a gig in which Ed is playing and so I need help before then. Answers on a postcard, please.