This morning I did 72 pressups.

This is how I did it:

2 - rest
4 - rest
6 - rest
8 - rest
10 - rest
12 - LONG REST

That's 42

Then I went back to the beginning:

2 - rest
4 - rest
6 - rest
8 - rest
10

That's another 30

TOTAL: 72

You can't beat the endorphin buzz you get from doing something like
that. A great way to start the day...

Last night I was lying in bed reading my dictionary. Trust me, it's a great way to get to sleep.

Anyway, I came across this word I've never seen before.

Fetlock: projection behind and above a horse's hoof.

I immediately imagined someone crouched down behind a horse's back leg (a risky move, if you ask me!) with some kind of image projecting device, like maybe projecting a movie onto a nearby wall, or maybe even a hologram into thin air. Something like this perhaps.

For some reason, this is how my mind works. It never seems to go for the most sensible answer first. This life-long affliction I consider both a disability and a limitless source of amusement.

It's like, years ago, when I used to watch The Wombles, the theme song went: "The Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we."

I mean, I'm not from London. As a kid, I knew nothing at all about the London area, except that it was big and noisy and where my uncle David lived. I had no idea that there was a place called "Wimbledon Common". Well, I'd heard of the place called Wimbledon, because they play tennis there, but I just never knew it had a common. So I thought the lyrics were:

The Wombles of Wimbledon,
common are we.

For most of my childhood, I thought that the Wimbledon area was full of these womble creatures. You know, that maybe Wimbledon didn't contain any normal people, just tennis players and wombles. Possibly even tennis playing wombles. Off-season of course.

It's alright for you. Just close this e-mail once you've read it. I have to live live inside this silly brain 24/7.