So I’m going to try and stay away from whinging about my work and my colleagues work; one of whom reads this and he tells me that he enjoys bits, but the work bullshit can rest. Me and he are in the same boat and I understand he would rather read this as a holiday, or at least a city break, like a  turbo holiday, which I read somewhere is a day away. You fly or train to a city, see everything very quickly, eat, get drunk and snog someone, before coming home and sleeping in your own bed, confident that when you wake up you will have forgotten everything, pissed yourself and lost your hat, it was at this stage you’d realise it was all a massive waste of money and should probably not do it again. I would rather have the automany to  do what I want to do, which in my case occurs at a funky pace. You’ll understand when you get to my age.

Last night a strange solar wind blew, or something, and one of Elon Musk’s space pods fell from the sky, like swirling semen lit up by the sun in the night skies over Clifton Upon Teme.How this all happened I really don’t understand as I was under the impression the world was flat and Hitler and Elvis lived inside, but seeing this swirling portal in the skies made me remember that I’d not hung the washing out which I’d put in when I got up, bare in mind the washing was washed due to it just being worn clothing, not necessarily dirty, and certainly not party to swirling semen.

Which was nice.