St Swithin's Day today, and I'm reminded of my blip from five years ago. I seemed to be happier then to reveal more of myself, as it were. I don't think my philosophy has been changed much since that time.

For the same blip now of course, I would link to the song, and perhaps comment on the innuendo in the line 'with my own hands, when I make love to your memory'. In truth, I'm not sure I'd cottoned on to it then :)

This is perhaps the most ironic St Swithin's Day in recent memory, in that it might be the only day on the month in which it hasn't rained.