I have been reading the most depressing books lately. First Tony Parsons’ Man and Boy, which is so sad in places that I started snuffling on the Tube and then when people looked at me suspiciously, pretended I had a cold and blew my nose in a theatrical manner. Then Star Turn by Nigel Williams, the story of a disappointed man’s pointless and miserable life, which practically made me feel like topping myself. Now I am re-reading David Baddiel’s Whatever Love Means, which was a mistake as Baddiel’s merciless dissection of a moribund relationship, intertwined with horrifying illness and death, is hardly calculated to perk you up.
I am sure it is just statistical clustering but I really feel that I need to read something cheery like Asterix books to redress the balance. Only knowing my luck it would be Asterix and the Malignant Tumour or Asterix Discovers That His Life Is Basically Worthless. It is OK though as I am quite happy at the moment, especially as I had a super night out with Steve and Matt and some others. We went to a sekrit pub that I will not tell you about in case everyone wants to go there, and then for a curry. Then mysteriously to another pub where we managed to chat up a couple of exceptionally attractive girls using only our native charm and a folding bicycle.
I am a bit drunken now but it does not matter. I am happy due to having lovely friends, also I have the world’s warmest and fluffiest jumper. This is more important than you might think if you do not understand about things like jumpers.