Three years ago we got married. In the run up to that event I got myself a rowing machine. I mean I wasn’t going to spend my honeymoon in St. Lucia blubbering about like a beached whale. Sadly I didn’t stick with it. Once the ring was on it was all downhill. The night of the wedding we ended up eating pizza in a pub in Henley on Thames. You get the idea.
Fast forward to 2013. My ‘emergency diet’ did a job in the fourth quarter of 2012 but things aren’t going well now. I mean last night I ate pork belly and breast-of-duck; and a bottle of wine. And then fell asleep. So today I made a decision – out with the old….
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Is the increase in so-called street entertainment a desperate ploy by high street retailers to attract people out of their homes to spend money? Probably not but there some increasingly weird street artists around at the moment. Take this chap, sitting on air:
It’s not great though, just take a look at this poor chap:
…and I found this:
I needed it when I got home. However I am done. I’ve got everything I need. Until I remember all the stuff I’ve forgotten – but what the hell there’s plenty of time…
My wife is a qualified accountant. I am a qualified blagger. Nevertheless early morning starts are a great leveller. No matter what your intellect, the bleary-eyed semi-dawn of an Autumnal 6am start can play tricks with the mind – especially when you are hunting through the pantry for something to eat for lunch at work.
My wife found a tin of tomato soup in the back of the cupboard, and off she went. Come lunch time she dug her tin out of her handbag and headed for the canteen microwave, only to find she had this: