Decisions, decisions...

There's so much good stuff in the news at the moment it's hard to know where to start.

We've got Disgusting Michael Howard, leader of Her Majesty's Opposition, shamelessly sucking up to crime-obsessed Daily Mail readers and campaigning for a change in the law so that it will be legal for righteous homeowners to overpower burglars and feed them into their blenders, or something.

We've got Prince Harry, the charmless half-witted younger son of Chuck and Dopey Di, dressing as a Nazi at a fancy-dress party and being pilloried in the press for his "insensitivity". (Good job his Bin Laden outfit was in the wash.)

We've got Tony Blair and his Chancellor Gordon Brown engaged in a weird little hissy whispering campaign against each other, which is, frankly, no way to win an election, even if your opponent is the aforementioned and thankfully unelectable Disgusting Michael Howard.

And we've had real weather for the last couple of days, with flooding and winds of up to 120 miles per hour, which makes for great television, especially as it's happening in places like Northern Ireland and Scotland which we Home Counties types don't really care about.

And it was with great satisfaction that I listened to the report about the luxury cruise liner Aurora which developed engine trouble a few miles out of Southampton, which meant that a bunch of rich people have spent forty thousand quid apiece to sit staring at the Isle of Wight for a week.

Yay!

I shall expand on some or all of these in due course...

Goosebumps

I don't know what to make of this, but it's all true...

If I wake up during the night and have to go downstairs to get a drink of water, the instant my foot hits the third stair from the bottom, what hair I have on the back of my neck stands up, and my skin crawls. It doesn't get any worse, and I don't see or hear anything spooky-wooky-wooky, but it happens every time, and now if I wake during the night I usually decide to stay thirsty. (Yes, I know I could bring a glass of water up with me when I go to bed, but that's not the point, and you know it.)

And there's more: I was working at my computer a couple of weeks ago. It was about five pm, so it was dark outside. I had headphones on, so I was a little isolated from the world, as it were, but out of the corner of my eye I saw my step-daughter Cassie come into the office. What was strange, though, was that she ducked down under the desk behind me (there are two desks in my home office.) I turned around, thinking that she was fooling around, and (you've probably guessed this one already) there was nobody there.

Now here's the thing. I DON'T BELIEVE IN THIS STUFF! AND I WANT TO BE ABLE TO GET TO MY KITCHEN AT NIGHT WITHOUT FEELING LIKE A SCARED FOUR-YEAR-OLD!

Maybe it's acid flashbacks from the 70s. And I thought I'd got away with it.

David's medication had successfully reduced his cholestrol levels; however there were one or two side-effects the drug company had neglected to list on the box.