This morning as I cycled in the city centre I narrowly avoided being crushed to death by a bus sporting an advert for the Dick Whittington play.
Oh, the humiliation to be killed by a panto!
Recently I was thwarted in my desire to purchase prosthetic hands, but consoled myself with a collection of antique teeth. Plus a silver tracheostomy tube. Oh, and some 19th century bloodletting equipment.
Or should I say fleaming? Whatever!
What a merry xmas this will be….
