The annual ritual

It’s that time of year again. Mrs D and I have a bet about whether Arsenal or her team (Spurs) will finish higher in the football. Don’t know why, I’m not even an Arsenal supporter. That is TSM’s prerogative. Anyway if Arsenal finish above Spurs she has to buy me whisky, if it is the other way around I have to buy her gin. Let’s just say it’s not been going my way in recent years ...

We took this pic in the kitchen at work but because I am a nice guy with DIM skills I put the new Spurs stadium in the background for her, which went down well. Plus it’s a fun shot.

Work was not much fun on any other level today due to the return of The Pants Monster. I did some research on the functioning of the Enteric Nervous System (AKA The Brain In Your Bowels) and have decided to go down the Ayurvedic and mind over body route. Why not, there’s nothing to lose. I will endeavour to become a mystic who floats serenely on the surface of pain like a Pujari on hot coals. Obi-Wan like, I shall smile enigmatically and deftly sidestep into another dimension beyond the physical form.

Will probably keep taking the pills though. Just in case ...