7085/19605
Hi, the company we bought our wedding rings from. That was kind of a special purchase. You don’t need to email me 3 times a week. Will let you know if we split up and I get married again, ok?
I like to exist on the fringes of society, always in shadow, not obeying the rules of “the man”, doing stuff my own way. Today in Waitrose, I bought some sushi for my lunch and then, after I’d paid for all my shopping, I ate it in the cafe. Even though I think that probably isn’t allowed. I bought a cup of coffee too. I’m not a monster. But I didn’t pay VAT on Amy sushi and I had to keep an eye out in case one of the ladies behind the counter saw what I was doing and alerted the authorities. Or told me that I wasn’t technically allowed to do that. But they didn’t seem that bothered. They were probably too scared to say anything. Such brazen rule breaking suggests that I am someone not to be messed with.
A controversial frame (and a half) of self-playing snooker tonight that is bound to shake the foundations of the sport and could result in Referee 1 being fired into the heart of the sun. Check it out on YouTube or wherever you get your podcasts.
Tonight at bedtime Phoebe wanted to have a rap battle. They grow up so fast. She wanted to do one where we were rude about each other and one where we were nice. She found the rude one pretty easy “Daddy smells of poo, he lives down the loo” and so on, but she became rather stuck when she had to say anything nice about me. The best she could do was Daddy is not a baddie, which is really the lowest bar of fatherhood. I think she also said I was a bear, which isn’t even true. It was great to watch her look stumped after all the rude stuff had flown out of her brain with such ease. She is definitely her father’s daughter. Which I should have put in my own insult rap.
