Ok here are some pics of our trip to Paris. You'll be getting a link to look at more pics of Paris and my bday. Enjoy! Love y'all miss y'all, 

Eiffel Tower - Alex 

Eiffel Tower 

Notre Dame 

TEXAS, pamplona, green day and i hate jude law

Well, we've finally booked it....and i CAN'T WAIT for some Texan sunshine, Mi Cocina, and Bruty tooty oh rooty.
Luckily Court's been keeping this thing up to date because Brooke and I have been a bit useless on the old Blog front. Anyhoo, not a lot to report. Court & I are going to Paris next weekend for her birthday present so I'll be able to impress her with my attempt at the language of love. Er, sacre bleu, votre chien est apelle Bruty tooty.
OK, yes, I'm crap.
On to Green Day. I finished my first book. All 20,000 words, and I was pretty stressed at the end of last week. Grandmommy, I know you're a huge fan so I'll make sure to send you a copy.
By the way, before I forget... Brooke.... look up Pamplona on Google. Running with the Bulls. A Spanish tradition. Maybe you could organise a competition for the first person to run a certain distance, finishing a full carton of Ben and Jerry's whilst a herd of Bulls are chasing them through the streets. Or something.
OK.. back to Jude. Did I tell you I can't stand Jude Law.
Love Alex
x
P.s.... let's all head down to Austin for a few days!!!

Calling all Ice Cream Lovers

Hello Dear Family and Friends,

I'm calling on all of those creative Getters/Hannafords to put on their thinking caps for my very first pseudo Cambridge Assignment. Ok kids...this is a fun one. I have a group project so everyone get their Elmers glue, glitter, and poster board ready. Here is the objective: Come up with a Marketing plan for Ben and Jerry's in Spain. Yes Dad you heard me right, we have to market those libral hippy low lifes. Right now I'm in need of a radical idea similar to Red Bull's Flutaag contest where people make their own homemade flying machines (Grandmommy don't worry about understanding any of this). So what can Ben and Jerry's do...especially in Spain. Here they sponsor the world toe wrestling championship, but I want something better. So drink some Sangria, put on the Grateful Dead, turn on the black light, get yourself in that Ben and Jerry's mentality with Orka sounds in the background and think of something totally awesome dudes. Gracias.

Beardog

Gone To Texas!

Below please see the itinerary for passenger(s):
Mr Hannaford, Alex
Miss Getter, Courtney

Departure
London [LHR]
Heathrow
Great Britain (UK)
TERMINAL 3
08:30 Tue 31 May 05

Arrival
Dallas-Fort Worth [DFW]
Dallas / Fort Worth International
United States
TERMINAL C
14:53 Tue 31 May 05

I'm scared of old big angry Irishmen

I'm currently at my desk at work commiserating over the fact that it's Monday. The weekend wasn't as long as I'd like it to be but I had some fun anyways. Friday was Matt Gyves' birthday (aka one of Alex's best men, the redheaded one). Saturday we went to a wedding (naturally it wasn't as good as mine, plus it was a cash bar, so that's a no-no). Sunday we nursed everyone's hangovers from their Saturday ventures the night before with our attempt at a Tex-Mex breakfast. Good attempt but not the same. However we have found that Alex can make really good salsa so Brooke and I are happy about that. Sunday night led us to our local pub. Al and I were joined by Bear Dog, Mark and Russell and boy did we partake in some wonderful pub delights. First the girls bathroom was let's say 'out of order.' In so many words, there was poo everywhere so I had to hold it until I couldn't hold it any more. I got clearance from the manager to use the guys' bathroom and Brooke came too. My turn was fine, but when I had to guard the door for Brooke I was approached by a 7 foot Irishman aged about 65 and missing teeth. Some expletives ensued as I nervously stood guard and made sure my sister emptied her bladder at the expense of being used as a punching bag by the chap. Thank God nothing happened but the gentleman was told to leave. If he would have tried anything I would have just employed the tactic my dad taught us girls from an early age, aim for his balls and run like hell. Thankfully that needn't be used. Then we had our entertainment for the night. An aging 'beauty' began to dance solo to the pub music offered by a lone guitarist. This included writhing on the floor, rubbing herself on a pole, and taking her top off. After laughing hysterically at this drunken tragedy she came over to me to say that we ruined her bachlorette party. Keep in mind NO ONE WAS WITH HER! And she was definitely trying to grab the guitarist's package while he was playing. So basically I think she was just a drunk whore. Oh the delights of England! I love y'all!
-Court