After Thursday’s return to the coal face of trying to write and work out what the hell to write about that doesn’t alienate the baying fans, moist with the advent of some more incoming useless content, I’ve decided to have a stab at some positive stuff which doesn’t involve genocide, cannibals, economic event horizons and general political incompetence all round. You know who you are and if you get hit in the temple with a nine iron by the ghost of Janey Godley up in Aberdeenshire then it couldn’t come too soon; that would mean diving into the supernatural which is a long shot, but let us not forget in the words of the great woman that “Trump is a Cunt”.

So positives…

My daughter scored a first class honour degree in Crimanology a few weeks back, her Dissertation scored 85% which is enough to qualify it as an official research paper, “the art of the deal” is mainly researched for a window into the Mango Maniac’s lack of a soul (again lets avoid the supernatural). I’m so proud of the Monk (my daughter) this has been a sunbeam lighting up the otherwise gloomy recent past, she’s also got a graduate job, earning a good whack with the potential to earn a lot more in an international business, you know the rules, the anonymity its what makes this blog so bloody exciting, nay compelling for lunatics.

Mrs T, young T and myself saw Miles Hunt of the Wonderstuff last night in a place called Tenbury Wells, intimate gig, acoustic but with amplifiers (?) and interestingly enough the Usher on the front door of the Regal didn’t even mention the pints of Perroni my son was quaffing, suffice to say he has now got some fake ID with a different name and date off birth which would, if asked, force myself and Mrs T to change our names accordingly.

Cricket is going pretty well, and thats about it really, yep everything is pretty shit at the moment, I’m sure I’ll think of something else to discuss but now I must  run as Maps and Chutney (aspiring superstar Dj’s) are performing at the white pheasant for free beer, shits and giggles.