Labels

I bought a coat the other day.

I needed a coat, what with the weather looking like it might be turning cold.

Looking?

But, try as I might, I couldn't find one which fitted my criteria.

It had to be:

1. Cheap
2. Warm
3. Any colour including brown
4. Waterproof

I looked everywhere, even in shops which didn't sell coats, all to no avail.



Until, like I said, the other day, I found one which suited me down to the tops of my thighs.

I thought twice about buying it straight away because of the label I found stuck to the inside pocket. Instead of not buying the coat I just ripped the label off, and everything was okay.

Happy Birthday

It's a year since I started this blog. Look.

See. Told you.

Thanks for reading.

All three of you.

R.I.P.

There is no romantic way to die and there is no romantic way to be found dead. Whether you die in the arms of a loved one after a short and painless illness, or are found washed up on the banks of the Thames with your limbs in a Co-Op carrier bag fastened around your neck, the long and short of it is that you are dead.

Most, I believe, would choose the former.