So, the year is ending. It is going the way of all things. Time continues to barrel inexorably onwards and we find ourselves another 365 days closer to the inevitable heat death of the Universe.
British politics is a mess.
We have voted to leave the EU. David Cameron has resigned. Boris Johnson has vanished. The Labour party are wrestling on the floor. The Lib Dems are sitting quietly in the corner. Meanwhile, Nicola Sturgeon is performing the world’s longest eye-roll.
Yes, British politics is a hilarious mess. How can I describe it to you?
So, the British Summer appears to be upon us in all its half-hearted, muggy glory. Bumbling slowly along with all the grace of a short-sighted giant in stilettos carrying a heavy shopping basket full of insect repellant and sun cream.
Hay fever, in this repulsive train crash of an analogy, is the wart on that giant’s nose, the foul stench of dried sweat emanating from its pores, the head-lice in its sticky hair – an unwelcome parasitic stowaway gleefully making its obnoxious presence known.
It has taken me a long time to pluck up the courage to write this blog post. I think, until now, I have been unwilling to face the reality of my loss. Unwilling to admit that it really happened.
You see, it has been 4 months now since I last saw my beloved water bottle. My faithful friend, my constant companion, the source of my life. My confidant, my closest ally. My butler, and my bodyguard.
This post is dedicated to him.
Prepare to be shocked and amazed as I unpack the centuries-old secrets of the popular, yet controversial nursery rhyme, Little Miss Muffet. Caution advised.
So you may not have heard, but I’ve just got a new job writing internet headlines.
It’s an under-appreciated art. Mark my words, in years to come all of the world’s most celebrated artists will be internet headline writers. Personal wealth will no longer be measured in pounds and dollars but in the number of clicks one’s links generate.
Today boys and girls, we will be looking at the oft-misunderstood topic of joy. I hope to delight, inspire and enlighten you with a few little-known facts about the elusive concept:
Joy spelled backwards is yoj.
Lots of things are changing in my life right now. It is exciting, but it can get a little overwhelming.
I have found that, in these moments, it’s important to take some time to focus on those things that remain constant while everything around seems uncertain.
Andy Murray is the Wimbledon champion. He is an Olympic gold medallist and the reigning US Open champion.
He is a hero. He is a fighter. A brave warrior returning with the spoils of war. A triumphant boxer with arms aloft. The victor astride his vanquished foe. He is Muhammad Ali. He is Obi-wan Kenobi. He is Joan of Arc and John McClane.
I don’t know if you have noticed, but everyone is engaged. No, literally everyone. I can barely get through a week of moderate Facebook use without being informed of yet another friend’s betrothal.
I’m not even using hyperbole for effect.*