I’m sporting a new motor tic that’s pretty subtle compared with some of the other movements I make. This new tic involves my wrist suddenly flicking back and up a number of times. This looks a bit like a hyperactive cousin of the royal wave.

“How do you spell ‘Squirrel’?”

“How do you spell ‘Shot in the bum’?”

Here’s my version of I’d do Anything from the musical Oliver. It came from nowhere this evening and is presented here (almost) verbatim:

“I’d do anything for fucking mums, bitches and dog poo tits.

I’d do anything for a caged monkey in Peru.…

Fact: I hit my head with the Hoover.

Fiction: “I have a mains supply to my head.”

“Banksy’s love juice tasted like Creosote.”

A couple of days ago I got a copy of a letter to my GP from my neurologist. In the letter he describes how my tics are affecting the way I walk. He said it looked like “The Ministry of Silly Walks.”…

Fat Sister and I did more yoga this morning with Giedre. During the session I discovered some of the contents from the piñata we’d had at the party on Saturday lurking under the sofa:

“I see Smarties.”

“I see two Smarties.”…

Earlier this evening I gave a work presentation to a group of about thirty people. We were all outside and during my talk I kept ticced, “Squirrel.” Then, half way through, a squirrel fell out of a tree. The audience laughed and one of my colleagues suggested that my super powers might extend even further than we’d first thought.

The “Bye, bye” tic that I’ve been saying for about a month has changed quite a bit over the weeks.

The simple “Bye, bye” evolved into a gravelly “Bye, bye”. This became “Bye, bye Babybel”, and is now, “Bye, bye baby bear.”…

Friends and strangers are constantly misquoting me. For example:

“Figs on crisps” which was actually “Fingers on crisps.”

“Squirrel humper” which was actually “Squirrel lover.”

“Titty-wank your bank manager” which was actually “Titty-fuck your bank manager.”

“Hot green Kermit wank” which was actually “Boiling green Kermit cum.”…