That’s me, that is, Dear Reader, having just awoken from a fourteen hour kip in the manner of Sleeping Beauty, see above.
‘Take it easy for a few days,’ instructed the medical sort, as One biffed off, listing badly to port.
One can’t actually recall acquiring One’s choods and gattels from the Underground Lair, or indeed the journey to the Manor, but here One is, so it must have all come to pass.
Any road up, having made it through Saturday and Sunday in a relatively normal (for One), manner, One has just, as aforementioned, awoken from a mammoth kip.
Yesterday we were sat sitting ‘ere minding our own bees-tiddly-wax when the A of the F piped up, ‘Oh do feck off,’ to his i-phone AND IT ANSWERED HIM BACK
‘Goodbye would have been more polite,’ it said appropo of nothing, I kid you not, Dear Reader, inanimate devices are going to take over the world.
‘Siri’ the sort on the i-phone, will occasionally pipe up when she picks up vocals off the telly, and has oft been told to f-off by the A. Obv., she has a tolerance level and has got fed up with his profanity.
Car: ‘You needn’t think I’m starting up if you get in here with those shoes on!’
Washin Mashin: ‘Don’t you think it’s about time you washed them sheets, you dirty mare?’
And so it will go on…