Yup, the days role by, the nights are fair drawin’ oot, and I’m writing sentences like this one:
“So how come Rickards recognises this guy’s arse then? He been there?”*
Ah yes, the keyboard is indeed mightier than the sword... Actually that’s a blatant lie. If the keyboard really were mightier than the sword then Vikings would have used them. Stands to reason doesn’t it? They’d pile out of their longboats brandishing their Acers and Logitechs, while the true berserkers screamed bloody murder and hacked away with their Microsoft Naturals. Hack and slash dude. Making little 'click-sproinnnng' noises.
Anyway, in other, less warlike news: Little Miss has been fit free since Saturday. Or if she’s had any we’ve not seen them. Which isn’t quite the same thing. And I’m off to the accountant today to find out if I’m skint, rolling in it, or somewhere in-between (fingers crossed for ‘rolling in it’... fingers crossed for ‘rolling in it’!).
And last, but not least, who'd a thunk it?**
|You Are a Martini|
There's no other way to say it: you're a total lush.
You hold your liquor well, and you hold a lot of it!