I'm very grumpy and depressed today. Having talked slightly tongue in cheek about the "United Kingdom" last week, this misnomer is about to be revealed even more blatantly, given the passing of the Hunting Bill yesterday. I don't hunt - not for moral reasons...it has something to do with the fact that I can't ride. The only aleviating factor lifting my mood though is a sense of excitement at the chaos that is about to ensue.
Whilst in the soul-baring mode, I have been reading a diary I kept for a few years between the age of 18-22. Very worrying stuff actually. My idea of a good evening, admittedly living in Riyadh at the time ( February 1982 ), seemingly went something like this...." Played squash. Ice cream in Baskin Robbins. Filled up the Mini-Moke for 60p. Went home, had supper and listened to my new Cliff Richard tape. Great stuff." ????????
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