At 37 I’m done, dusted and ready to be trusted. Or, should that be still can’t be trusted.
The skepticism that accompanies old age is beginning to fester into a frothing fountain of bitterness.
Alas, I’m Silas Marner trapped in Ozzy Osbourne’s body.
Only India can save me now, I feel. And only I can save India (but don’t tell anyone in India yet. They may not believe you).
A PC has replaced my Mac, I’ve been reluctantly forced back onto Facebook and my kids are going to Oz for a holiday.
The randomness of life, I tell you.
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