Twister

A work colleague commented today that the word count on my recent blips is a lot higher than some of my earlier entries. Kiss of death that was, head's as empty as Ibrox's bank account trying to think of something verbose tonight.

It's not that nothing happened today, things most probably certainly did. It's just that those things seem to have blended into one constipated synaptic mass.

I remember we had a fire drill that broke up the morning nicely... and that I was glad that there was tomato soup on the menu at lunchtime rather than mushroom like yesterday. Don;t like mushroom.

...and I've just remembered I'd said go and help Euan try and fix his gaming chair. Two hours ago that was.

Oops. My head's mince.