Discovered in Lidl, a must have purchase.
I might now be humming the Duff beer jingle.
I’m now sitting in the garden, with a beer, listening to the baby woodpigeons moving around in the tree.
I’m paint spattered and dusty, but content that the spare bedroom, which was once two bedrooms, is now finished.
As is usual with any couple, there were disputed finishing touches. I asserted myself, though, hanging my old, beloved Cyndi Lauper poster.
Which was quickly replaced by William McCarthy.
My second in command has a fear of sharks; not that we come across many in Gateshead.
So watching a film involving people trapped in a cage at the bottom of the sea possibly wasn’t a great idea.
And the inevitable happened. When a girl was suddenly attacked by one rather huge beast, my second in command shrieked, leaping into the air, knocking a can of beer from my hand.
Everything is wet. I am wet.
There is twinkly music as Ms Paltrow boards the tube. And then there were two.
Hugh Everett. Many Worlds.
Shortly on BBC1, Sliding Doors. Which, of course, reminds me of Eels.
As in Mr Everett’s dad’s theory. I could expand, but it’d be healthy for you to research.