Late Thoughts.

I can feel my trapezius muscles tightening up from all that unaccustomed work clearing paths through the snow.

(Aside. I never wanted to be an engine driver when I was a kid; I wanted to be the fireman of a steam locomotive. Pity steam trains had gone by the time I left school. I probably would have gained very good trapezius muscles.)

So anyway, I could do with a massage. But where does a gentleman of high principle go to have his trapezius muscles massaged? Why, nowhere of course. Massage is such a very intimate process, and only to be invited from a person of singular qualification – and I don’t mean the professional sort.

I was going to continue on this theme but realised I’d be digging a damn big hole for myself, a predicament from which I could see no prospect of escaping unscathed. So I’ll leave it at that.

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Isn’t it strange how we get hit by the oddest desires? Late last night I was feeling washed up – very tired, a few aches and pains, deep into the scotch, over-ready for bed. Suddenly, I wanted an ice cream.

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I’m growing increasingly tired of the government and medical profession playing nanny. It seems like every day now they find something else to tell me I must or mustn’t do, and threaten me with the direst consequences if I resist their attempts to roll me up in mothballs and rule me by numbers. The whole thing is becoming hysterical.

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If American films are to be believed, American men have an oddly illogical way of dressing. They put their trousers on first, fasten them, and then put their shirt on, necessitating the uncomfortable process of tucking the shirt into the tight waistband of the trousers. Why not put the shirt on first? I’m similarly bemused by the way they knot their neck ties.

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Should I have another beer (I’m thirsty,) or start on the scotch?

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Does anybody know whether there’s a big hole in the ground where New York used to be? It feels that way.

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‘...little and low lighting...’ I’ve thought of that phrase often today. Sarah does alliteration; I wonder whether we’d get on. Only kidding, Sal. Thank you for dropping in twice today.