Sigh... you know a day isn't going to go as planned when you forget to add a teabag to your morning tea - still hot milky water has it's perks - I just struggle to think of any of them.

I was busy playing with 'little Clint' this morning when I was rudely disturbed by a knock on the front door - I opened it only to be greeted by a pair of 'Born Agains' trying to instill some faith into me. Now I'm the kind of person who struggles to be rude to strangers, but from somewhere I managed to find the strength to close the door in their faces.

I'd barely sat down again when there came another knock - this time I was greeted by an outstretched arm with a book in its hand.

"Bible", she said.

"Yes I know", I replied as I tried to slam the door shut on her fingers. Sadly her colleague had already, 'got her foot in the door', but crushing her toes did provide some mild satisfaction. They had quite a stockpile of those little red books - I'm guessing they steal from a lot of hotels... not very Christian, but there you go.

"We'd like you to read it".

Her naive stare made led me to believe that she actually thought I might.

"What? Now?", I then tried my best to explain that I was already preoccupied by the act of 'petting my ferret' & that reading such a long book seemed more than a doorstep activity, but they remained annoyingly unperturbed.
Apparently it's all about the message, personally I believe that if a message is important then it can summarised on a post-it - any message that requires you to read a few hundred pages to get to it can't be that urgent...

Finally they left after I'd imprinted upon them the impression I desired - my door knocker.

At last I was able to return to my milky water, morning paper & ferret stroking - all was well until I opened the paper to be greeted by the headline, "BEWARE THE SILENT KILLER IN YOUR ROOM". For a minute I was concerned that it was a reference to the creepy guy I keep catching hanging around my house with a copy of 'Catcher in the Rye' - but thankfully it was only an article about the dangers of carbon monoxide.

There was another article about a local council who had taken the step of banning doormats because of the potential tripping hazard they may cause to tenants, to which one tenant was quoted as saying, "It's political correctness gone mad!". Not that I'm picky, but the only way that this could be perceived as an incident of political correctness gone 'too far' was if they'd been asked to remove their mats because they bore the phrase, "Please wipe your feet" - which obviously has the potential to be offensive to amputees.

Anyway, I'm rambling - probably thanks to the bottle of 'Black Bush' whiskey I was bought for my birthday - I think someone caught the end of the conversation when I was talking about things I'm fond of...