Knickerless (Nick'll be)

In a bought of virtual spring (summer? Winter? Somebody remind me which season it is, the weather is obviously having a tantrum, and is thusly most confusing and unhelpful) cleaning, I was perusing the plethora of unfinished and discarded blog drafts that are cluttering up my Blogger Dashboard™. It seems that exactly this time last month I was to regale you with tales of Cherie Blair, my old chemistry teacher and the secret of collective nouns, all from the pages of our dear ex-Prime Minister's least favourite compact news-rag. But I didn't, or maybe I did, but you weren't listening, or I forgot, who knows? I forget.

Anyway, on to less important matters. Watch out automobilophiles, after an absence of nearly a decade I'm back on your roads, yes yours. I've almost learned to undo the handbrake and fiddle with the window swipers, I even went backwards the other day. I did went and go forwards too, at upwards of 30 miles per hour, with the wind whistling through the holes in my go-faster stripe enhanced trousers. I am indeed a speed demon. I shall vow to walk no more, not that I did went and do much of that anyway. I hereby pass my pedestrian mantle onto the next generation in the person of my driving instructor's brand new sproglet (once he's learned to walk). Take cover, for Gigantor stalks the Earth!


Currently listening: Cansei De Ser Sexy by CSS