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Lost mobile…

Lost possession of my mobile phone early in this afternoon. I’d just had lunch – a rather splendid Roast Beef & Yorkshire Pud combo in a pub in Walkington – and, waving my goodbyes in the car park to the man who’d paid the bill, who quickly sped off, it suddenly dawned on me that my mobile was in his car. I thought, oh, I’ll give him a bell. But then, ho hum, realised his numbers live on the phone that was in the car trundling down the road. So that was that. I felt quite liberated. It took me back to those innocent pre-mobile communication days, when you were free to roam without the fear that, at any minute, some bastard would ring you up and interfere with your plans for the day. I might not bother getting it back. Imagine that. No more txting, no more radiation fears, no more unwelcome contact when you’re on the move. It wd b hvn.

Music: The Buzzcock’s Everybody’s Happy Nowadays. Book: Andrew Loog Oldham’s 2Stoned. Cat: Penny. XBox action: Fifa. Island destination: Kos. Sock colour: Black & Blue (not as a homage to a Rolling Stones’ album). Cheap beer: Tesco’s Biere Blonde. Phone bill: Still unpaid.

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