Being Oliver.

Here I am again, as promised, just because I can. Still connected, but only by a thread. The faulty phone line signal will permit slow web browsing, but not streaming. And that’s tonight’s disaster: no YouTube. It keeps stopping and starting. Hopeless.

What value the wee small hours without YouTube? Going to bed without YouTube is like going to bed without supper. I feel like a Victorian waif incarcerated in a workhouse with a cruel superintendent who denies me sustenance, just because he can.

Well, not quite I suppose, but if you can’t exaggerate on a blog, where can you exaggerate?

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I caught a glimpse of Miss Sarah through her kitchen window tonight. I miss Miss Sarah. I do.

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I think I’ll grab a houmous sandwich and go to bed. Wish I had some cucumber.

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Poor me. It’s enough to drive a chap to picking pockets.