Well, not so much ‘life on hold’ as ‘blog on hold’. I’ve just run out of things to say. There’s nothing interesting happening in the world. No-one’s died for 4 days now. Syria’s at peace. The refugee crisis is over. The feminists are happy now. The anti-feminists have been told by the feminists that they’re happy too. Gender labeling has now been prohibited altogether. There hasn’t been a new planet discovered for over a week. Statistical analysis has been banned. No-one’s making films any more. And football is suspended until further notice. So what’s left for a whinger to whinge about?

Actually, you’ll be relieved to hear, the world is in fact still as full of shit as it was 3 days ago. But my time has suddenly become more precious. Maybe not ‘precious’ as such but in demand.

Because my colleague at work has pissed off and gone to Australia for a month. A fucking month. What an unbelievably kind boss he must have. An uber-mensch. Now I know what you’re thinking; that this isn’t Australia at all, but in fact a photo taken in Hong Kong. Maybe he got lost. Easy to do. You’re at Heathrow sipping coffee and see a queue of people getting on a plane and just assume its yours. Next thing instead of a week in Grand Canaria, you’re in North Korea and under arrest. We’ve all done it.

So whilst Robin’s away, I have to take up the ‘early shift’ slack. And that means that rather than enjoying my leisurely breakfast banana with the newspaper that always riles me up in some way shape or form, inspiring a flow of wordage to spew forth on my keyboard; now the banana gets eaten ‘elephant style’, just swallowed in one go as I rush out to the tube station. And fuck da newspaper.

And then, at work, we’re not just a ‘man down’ but we’re a ‘gay man down’. And that creates yet more issues. I’m a straight man; how can be everything to all people? Its impossible. How can I be ogling some killer babe’s legs whilst flirting shamelessly with the guy in the tutu? Its too difficult. Too many hats to wear at the same time. Some black felt and gangsterish, some more pink and fluffy ‘fascinatorish’.

I can’t. So something’s gotta give. Thus the blogging may be a touch erratic over the next weeks. Be patient. Or just piss off and read Caitlin Jenner’s. Or Jeremy Corbyn’s, John Terry’s or Kim Jong Un’s.

Happy something-day

A xxxx