Not that I've anything against reading, in fact it would probably be true to say that I would prefer to read but I do like my TV and to find that I don't like it without the aid of one drug or other has come as a bit of a disappointment I don't mind telling you.
This problem is of course exacerbated by the fact that the day drags on for ever without a squirt or two from the box of red (kept furtively concealed in a cupboard in case the wine police come a knocking). In days of yore (Monday) it felt as though I had hardly settled down into the uncomfy chair before my lids were drooping and the electric blanket was turned up to the max in readiness for the inevitable. Now the washing-up is done, the room is tidied, I've done my exercises (yoga and press ups) and it's barely dark.
Yes, yes, I should take up knitting or write to an African child but there still comes a time when I want nothing more to settle down in front of the television for a mindless moment or two and the fact is there's nothing on. I've even tried dance classes but that proved to be too awful for words without first consuming some sort of alcoholic drink. Wendy and Michael who live next door but one drank a bottle of champagne and a bottle of wine respectively prior to attending and they seemed to have a lovely time. So, should I wish to continue this extensive period of abstemiousness, the answer lies not in Salsa.
Some of the students at the local school have taken to chroming which is apparently what solvent abuse is called now it's undergone a rebranding exercise to make it more attractive to the kids. I wonder whether Ab Fab would be amusing with a canister of insecticide rammed up me hooter. That will be something to ponder next week for today is Friday which means the beer will flow freely, I'll be surprised and shocked by the denoument of Taggart and I'll have a jolly good laugh at Dead Ringers
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