It’s my birthday today: I have, against all odds, reached the ripe old age of fifty-three. Who would have thought?
So I’m celebrating today and not blogging.
This is the not blog that I’m not blogging.
At work, we have a custom of bringing goodies in on our birthdays. My pulchritudinous wife made eighty sausage rolls and cheese & onion rolls for me. I served them up at 1000 yesterday and by 1008 there was not a crumb left. I think I work with locusts.