I hate it when anyone ‘reaches out’ to me. Not in the Four Tops sense but in the contemporary use and abuse of that term. More Freddie Kruger coming out the lake, arms outstretched, than Motown hugging. When you get the phone calls from someone ‘reaching out’, it’s generally going to cost you money.

But not this morning. No. This morning someone ‘reached out’ to offer me something free!! I love free stuff, however useless it is. This wasn’t useless. I was ‘reached out’ to in order to see if I qualify for, basically, an ‘old person’s panic alarm’. A GPS tracker (in case I forget where I am) that you wear round you neck with a button on it for when I fall over. And, obviously, I do fall over. But I fall over being a hero! Not an old man. I fall over doing fearless and dangerous things!! Like walking. Anyway, what I said to dear, sweet Bethan was: “YOU CAN KEEP YOUR FUCKING OLD PERSON’S FUCKING… THING!!! HOWEVER ‘FREE’ IT MIGHT BE AND YOU CAN CROSS ME OFF THE LIST OF OLD PEOPLE RIGHT NOW!!!! AND THEN FUCK OFF!!!!”

I’m not at all sensitive to aging, nor its alleged affects on physicality. I’m in what’s known as ‘deep denial’.

It’s election day. Thank God. Cos then we can all talk about something else. Which will be wonderful. But it won’t be. We’ll be talking about how we miss having a Conservative government, how the country’s all gone to shit, how ‘twinning’ Milton Keynes with Rafah was a big mistake, how Starmer lied about… everything, how we wish he hadn’t just become a puppet for Angela Raynor to pull the strings, about how bad it was doing a trade deal with Hamas only for them to blow it up with the building and everyone in it, and how the NHS is now 50 billion quid a week richer but you still can’t speak to a Doctor for six months and hospitals have queues round the block for essential surgery.

I don’t mind a Labour government. Just not this one. Now go and vote.

Happy Voting Day

A xxxx