You know my beloved Pirate Zippo went missing two weekends ago right. Hunted high and low. No sign, presumed lost in forest.

Mr S walks into the front room of this here house and looks down and sees my pirate lighter lying by the sofa. He calls me into the room, assuming that I have dropped my replacement lighter out of my pocket. But no! this is the original lighter!

S&F had the furniture moved and looked everywhere when I lost it and now it turns up mysteriously out of nowhere.

Mrs F thinks the cats had it and batted it under the sofa when it fell out of my pocket. What with cats being part magpie and loving sparkly objects.

So Tolley and Cleo owe me the cost of one replacement zippo that I didn't need to get.

I love animals me.

Back from lunch and upon my desk was sitting the clip board with the "signing in" sheet on it. This is what we have to sign when we get here so, should the building burn down the responsible adult can tell if we made it out or not. I had missed signing it on Monday and today.

So I signed it.

Put it back where it lives.

Then I was told that I had not signed it for last Friday either.

Well.

One, it is a fire evacuation sheet - NOT a time sheet

Two, as I pointed out to the person who told me I should sign in for last friday

"If you can convince me that this building stands a chance of burning down LAST FUCKING FRIDAY, I will sign in"

I am not a damn time lord!

What is it with trousers and me? Well pockets to be more accurate.

When I was a nipper I was always wearing out the knees of my trousers.

When I was a teenager/twenty something I was always wearing out the knees, arse, thighs and groin of my jeans.

Now I seem to just kill off my pocket linings!

The trousers I am wearing right now are not even a year old, yet the right hand pocket has developed a hole. Bugger!

It is this sort of wear and tear that caused me to loose my first pirate zippo! Having only just got a replacement for that, the discovery of a hole in these previously secure lower body coverings leaves me worried.

OK it was my own fault for wearing a pair of trousers with knackered pockets but apart from that, they were totally serviceable and in an acceptable state to wear in polite company.

It may be due to me carrying stuff that I never did when younger – keys, lighter, mobile phone, lucky bit of bloodstone and mp3 player and such.

Either that or I have toxic legs.

Or both.

I officialy find this new site harder to navigate.

I have officially had some brekkie at my desk.

I am officially about to start work.

I am also officially putting it off.

I will be back later.

Thats' official.

As you were.