The Size of Biscuits

Ping-pong ding-dong, I've got a thingy song, so Eurovision here I come.

I have a reindeer, she is called Nigel and we are very happy together. Well… as happy as two manic-depressives who have nothing in common and spend at least 18 hours a day together, sharing a small, cramped and barely furnished flat can be.

I have a large spanner. It is made of a grey dull metal and is very heavy indeed. I think it may be - slightly - in love with me. I call it Sheila, although that is - of course - not its real name. I would be giving far, far too much away if I were to reveal its real name.

Names are interesting things. I have a name for everything that I feel may need one. I even have names for those things that need a name only on special Mondays, and for those I like to tickle in that special way.

I shall wear a hat and drive too slowly. I shall wear a cardigan and take an interest in gardening and the size of biscuits. I shall grow old and I will go bald.

I shall.

I shall.

Let us go, you and I, to sit in the car park of destiny with our flasks of milky tea and neatly-packed sandwich boxes.