The Slug retired from the lists early today and not actually at the reeling stage of inebriation. But as he did so he asked me, completely out of the blue, if I'd like some mulled wine. I said no, he said 'oh' and then went on his way. Now I don't like to believe my own usually quite flippant conspiracy theories but what on earth was that about.
I mean ... well, I mean, what was that all about. Why? Do we even have any. Why would he do that if he's on his way to bed. What, oh what was that all about.
Going out for an indian yesterday postponed clambering back aboard but it has proved surprisingly easy to do, today. It certainly caught him on the hop. How enjoyable was that.
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