Things could get no worse I am sure if I duck out a little early.

So I am going to enjoy the joys of traveling home in the rain and take my silly attempts at amusing people and cheering them up with me.

Have a good evening if I dont see any of you later.

And I am bored.

Yep, bloody bored.

Bored bored bored.

More bored than an oil well.

Oh god.

Someone do something.

Ask me something.

throw something.

Meh.

Trapped in an office with nothing to do and the rain doing the falling down thing outside with quite alot of gusto, I have been looking at compilations of cock ups from "House" on youtube.

They do seem to have fun making that show. The interesting thing is that when Hugh Laurie messes up he stays with his fake american accent, which must be hard to switch off.

So here I am, bored and considering a dart out into the rain to stand in the recessed entryway to the office garage and having a ciggie.

It's all go here I tell ya.

It's funny how things in your memory get linked up and one thing reminds you of the other.

Take "The Young Ones" TV programme - every time I see one or even a clip from one, I think about going to the rock club that used to be at the Green Gate/Oscars on the Eastern Avenue.

The reason being that I used to stop off at The Late Mr Kellys house and watch it there before we would wander over to said boozer.

And when I hear certain songs from the same time period, That I would have heard in the club, I also remember sitting watching the young ones before we went out.

Odd, but then so is my brain.

Have any tv programmes got linked in your memory to other things?

Sometimes when I stumble into the bathroom and look at my sleepy mug in the mirror I am amazed and shocked by what I see.

It must be something about being middle aged, but my eyebrows seem to have developed a life of their own.

When I look at them in the mirror first thing, it seems the hairs have been caught by me in the middle of some sort of “Mexican wave” and are looking suitable embarrassed but frozen in action – looking at me as if to say

“Oh, erm, your up then? We were, just, ya know, having a bit of a party.”

So I batter and slap the wayward fur down but some of them refuse to play, they refuse to give up on the party spirit and stay stood resolutely to attention. That’s when those troublemakers, the obvious ringleaders, get plucked! I will not put up with sedition in my eyebrows.