Woke up after drinking four bottles of dishwater known as Fosters lager brewed in Belgium not by monks and at least two extra large whiskys.

Shower shaved - off to work, casual in James Bond Mercer all season tattershall.  For some obscure reason I had the best of John Lennon in the car, I listened bewildered as a reverse anthropologist studying what kind of person digs this shit.

Load of emails from Australian office having a moan, rattled a few cages, can't tell it like it is, as my boss serenades me "this is Holland, we have laws to protect these lazy bastards". After that, had a double cheese burger at lunch time.

Not much in the afternoon, ongoing electrical emergency in Venezuela gets my attention. Waiting for the US to come on line - quiet. Good.

Bacon and eggs for dinner, because the misses off to some Italian film.

Kids are now in bed, Stanley Turrentine is playing and the first sip of whisky brings a sigh of nonchalence.

Hopefully, there's money in the account tomorrow and still considering being an absolute cheap skate and buying the 4.5 litre bottle of Johnnie Walker Red as ongoing cost cutting exerise. Is it as good a whisky as I remember it when I was doing copious amounts of coke? Or is it just an oily ill tasting sludge that's suitable for guests only?

As my Facebook following will know I've just put on my make up for the evening & I'm heading out.

You paint a delightful picture Russell of the detail and texture of family life. Morning glories eh? What's that all about? A reminder of the absurdity and endless frustrations of the 'male condition'....  Were you wearing the J.Press with heretical flap on pocket shirt whilst attempting to arouse Mrs.Street with your Ivy erection? You kinky sod!

Met the John Simons Apparel Politburo for espresso at St.Barnabas House at 1 Greek Street Soho this pm. Paul Simons was in THE WHITE WEEJUNS (why didn't I buy when JS told me about them!!). The project is on course and will be arriving in central London in September.... Cannot wait!

g.g.

My lifestyle is that of a 21st Century semi-rural hermit with a plausible manner and a low, rat-like cunning.  In other words:  a big mess.

But I have some nice clothes, none of which will I wear to the Mets-Yanks tilt tonight. If you're watching on Fox, I'll be the idiot with the sign that reads "The Mets are Trad."

^

Sounds good !