Bob Lewington here;
I was round Aunt Bab’s this morning adjusting her new chairlift.
I had seized it from a Paralympic hero who had failed to pay her Council Tax. I won’t name names but this individual’s ability to inspire a generation didn’t wash with the Magistrate.
Still Bab’s was grateful for the chairlift, although technically speaking there is nothing actually wrong with her . Being bone idle is not recognised as a medical condition.
The lift does set her new wallpaper off a treat though.
I had the inaugural journey, as I needed the smallest room. Got stuck on the landing and had to walk the rest of the way. Not exactly Neil Armstrong but you can’t have everything in life.
I had a go at that Sudokio in The Sun whilst on the pot. All Those Numbers! In Boxes. Up. Down. Across. Did My Head In. Numbers are bollocks. End of.
So I rolled up the paper and swatted a fly who was banging its head against the frosted window pane.
Bit like me with the Sodokio.
I walked down the stairs. Part of a new Olympic inspired fitness programme. The lads in the Dubious Pilchard were impressed when I told them. Given up crisps as well. Well, on Sundays at least.
I’m on the road to Rio!
Be lucky fella.