Abracadabra!

Perusing last evening’s etchings in the Scrabble scorebook of life makes for painful reading on this intermittently sunshine filled day. I went first. I was immediately second. I played a disaster-filled game of catch up that never had any winning merit, and I conceded, my lowly haul of 242 points was easily eclipsed by a front runner who galloped for the winning line and a 68 point thumping, 310–242. “The Redhead” now holds a 3–0 overall game advantage and I don’t see a victory any time soon yet, I’ve also won, big time, and I’d love to tell you more but I’m not going to. Lose lips, sink ships and all that. Lucky we weren’t playing battleships I guess.

I’d have lost and won at that game too.

Confused?

The act of confusion comes easy to a gentleman sitting in the partial sunshine of the day after the evening before. There was tea and Scrabble, Radiohead and Bombay Bicycle Club, talk of super soldiers, music festivals, acoustic guitars, stoner wisdom, and a far more earthy and grounded sense of reality. As if by magic, Christopher Nolan and “The Prestige” appeared on the TV, and like the Sex God lothario that I am, I said, “how about another game of Scrabble after David Bowie steals the show here?”. Did I win this game, dear reader? Who’s to say? Loose lips, sink ships. Remember that.

Whatever the score, I’m winning. Big time.

“Dear Diary” is a new concept I’m running with for the new year. Short, punchy, irreverent, spoiler free, telling you everything and nothing about that day’s particular journal entry. Here’s today’s entry. Do check back in tomorrow. After you’ve tempted yourself with one of these beauties I self-published either side of Christmas 2025:

"Alone with Everybody" - Link to Amazon

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