Leftwing Idiot isn’t a fan of my new ‘Ipswich’ tic. He’s not a fan of the place either. I’ve never been there so I can’t comment.

Ipswich

Leftwing Idiot and I dropped in on King Russell and Fat Sister in their new place earlier. We were sitting in the living room and King Russell was constructing some flat pack furniture. I found the noise of the drill really difficult to tolerate.…

I’ve described before how tics sometimes come out to a particular tune. The last few days have been full of ticced songs that arrive out of the blue. Here’s a selection of lyrics from the latest batch:

To the Blackadder theme:

“You’re Blackpool, you’re Blackpool, your good times have now gone.”…

The volunteer coordinator from a local disability organisation was meant to come and visit me at the lair this afternoon. They run a scheme that links disabled people with volunteers who help with things around the house or out and about.…

Laura and I were chatting on the phone earlier and I was telling her about a flat I’d been to see which was amazing.

TH: I can’t think of any tic which would make it an unsuitable place to live.

Laura: I can.…

I’ve been sleeping on the sofa in the living room for the last couple of months so I don’t have to go up and down stairs on my own at night. In some ways I find it easier to sleep on the sofa because it gives me less space to wriggle about on.…

“I fucked an armadillo in custard.”

“I was raised by a biscuit, Elton John and a Norman.”

It’s true.

Leftwing Idiot’s got a new Adidas top. I’ve become obsessed with pressing the small trefoil logo with my three middle fingers and saying, “Boof.” It’s harmless but strange, like my previous fixation with the safe.

I can make myself not do it, but for some reason ‘Boofing’ the logo makes me laugh.

Part One
It’s a Saturday evening at the beginning of summer. I haven’t got any work commitments and I’m up for going out to see what’s happening in the city.

But instead I’m sitting in the lair on my own, half-watching Columbo.…