At 5.30pm yesterday I didn’t much like the idea of picking my own fruit. I still didn’t like the idea this morning as I crawled out of bed with a head as heavy as my heart. I clung to the hope that it would be rained off but Wifey seemed to have already made a […]Read More Pickity pick.
I should have said it out loud weeks ago, when it first crossed my mind. I honestly did wonder to myself if Matt Hancock was ever going to be caught out and so it has come to pass. Not that I knew he was having an affair (other than with himself: a sordid, gripping fling […]Read More Carry On Hancock.
That’s it. I’ve been double jabbed. I’ve had a couple of hard pricks in me and all is well with the world. I reckon I must be pretty much untouchable by now. So untouchable that I can now swagger fearlessly through the streets, hug anybody I choose and attend vast orgies, as and when I […]Read More Two jab your body.
I’ve been thinking about football a lot the in last few days, for obvious reasons. It started when I realised that I didn’t care too much that Italy had beaten Turkey 3-0. I was also crammed with indifference when Wales clawed back a goal to draw with that font of perpetual footballing mundanity, Switzerland. I […]Read More Background balls.
For someone who doesn’t like them all that much I seem to spend more time than I should thinking about The Sussexeses. Like gout, piles or thrush they seem to flare up every so often, causing pain and discomfort and then, when their work is done and they’ve made very sure you haven’t forgotten about […]Read More For name’s sake.
Well, that little heatwave was little indeed. A few days in shorts and a few nights throwing off the duvet, and then yesterday it was back to being a car wash. Wifey caught the meteorological zeitgeist perfectly late Thursday afternoon as she methodically tied cushions to the garden chairs in preparation for an endless summer. […]Read More Land of grass and water.
When it comes to education, particularly since yesterday, there are rather a lot of people I’d rather not be. I’d rather not be a not smart kid, for a start (I know that calling kids thick, dim or stupid is frowned upon these days, though some of the alternative labels used today are fooling no-one, […]Read More Kids catch up.