Amour

I think I may be in love.

It is probably too soon to announce the object of my fervour, as perhaps I should wait until I have mentioned it to the recipient.

In the meantime I am going to sit here and enjoy the hormonal fug.

Happy happy humdrum

With Mrs Colin sharing her stocking(s) elsewhere this Christmas, I am about to seal myself indoors with an individual turkey dinner, a single festive cracker and an extra large bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream liqueur. I shall watch nothing but hour upon hour of comedy repeats on UK Gold.

I would like to wish a very humdrum Christmas to (all) my reader. Think of me when you are celebrating with your family and friends, opening presents and generally having a jolly old time.

Less nice

Kung po chicken is less nice if you have it two nights in a row. Especially from the same local takeaway. Especially when the reason for the second consecutive helping of kung po chicken is due to the sudden unexplained absence of Mrs Colin, who had promised me skinless sausages again tonight.

I am going to watch snooker. I like the sound the balls make when they shoot into the pockets.

Nice

Kung po chicken is nice.



Thank you.

Pills

I went to the doctors on Tuesday.

He gave me some happy pills.

Take two a day, he said. lift your spirit in no time, he said.

He was clearly lying.

Skinless sausages

Tonight, the fragrant Mrs Colin broke the news to me that, for the past sixteen months, she has been conducting a sordid affair with a lesbian trapeze artist from Lithuania, and wishes to divorce me in order to set up home with Flavia (for that is her name) in Croydon, where they will live in contortionist sapphic sin with each other.

Fortunately, however, we had skinless sausages and mashed potato for supper. My favourite. Mrs Colin makes superb mashed potato, and her skinless sausages are always just the right side of burnt.

Web 2.0.

I was reading one of those top blogs earlier.

It was very good.

I would put a link up for you - but I have forgotten what it was called now.

sorry

Presence

I have been trying to do my Christmas shopping, but Amazon do not sell socks.

Apologetic

Sorry about that.

Life got so exciting there for a moment that I lost the will to be humdrum.

I have now seen sense. And sense is even more humdrum than it was before.