No funny this week, I’m afraid. We got the news that Bayla — she’s the sleepy pooch up at the top of these pages — has a tumor in her abdomen that is doing nasty things to her insides. “You’ll know when it’s time,” the vet said, and that time will probably come within a week.
Last week I set out to tell you about the man on the train, but I got distracted by that whole episode with my headphones. I’d tell you how that turned out, but I’m still too annoyed to talk about it.
So. The man on the train. Continue reading “The man on the train and my earphones, Part 2”
I have a story about a man on a train that I’d like to tell you, but I’m not sure if I can do it, because I’m feeling rather cross at the moment. (I’ve also been reading Douglas Adams, so don’t be surprised if I write like an annoyed Englishman.)
I recently experienced what may be the most strange-dash-detestable-dash-wonderful thing I have ever encountered: The snorkel pool.
“Dude,” Mark said to me, “you need to start a blog.”