Monday 19 May 2008

Chilled, chilly and as peaceful as the grave

13st 10lb; 6.0 units of alcohol yesterday (two thirds of that rather delicious, chilled bottle of New Zealand sauvignon, which I felt I deserved after my spring cleaning efforts); 1,355; Sleepy Hollow.

Not much to report from the Back of Beyond today. For the first time in ages it was chilly enough to make it seem worthwhile lighting a log fire in my study; which looks picturesque but coats all my books and papers with filth, while unerringly directing about 80 per cent of its heat straight up the chimney. Still, the jackdaws seem to enjoy having their feet warmed.

I managed to write a moderately witty and erudite newspaper column about by-elections, and a press release for a client about the appointment of some high-powered female. I was thinking that perhaps I had still Got It until a correspondent cruelly pointed out my continued inability to think things through. As he correctly asserted, my whole C*** Chips™ concept of Saturday is fatally flawed, because the joke is about something that looks terrible but feels terrific, while the Chips look terrible but taste terrific. An important distinction, he states, adding perhaps unnecessarily that the relevant parts of his missus look a damn sight better than they ever taste.

Back to the drawing board there, then.

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