It came to my attention recently that I’ve been missing my front door for a good few weeks now. I only noticed this apparent loss of frontal portal device when I came down the stairs one day to find the postman sitting in my kitchen enjoying a cup of tea. I assume he was enjoying it as he would take a good, long sip and after a moments contemplation would let out a long sigh. This sip-sighing is what initially caused me to enter the kitchen as my routine normally requires me to first enter the living room where a slice of last nights pizza may have congealed and be ready for eating. The noise from the kitchen caused my detour.”Hello. Why are you in my kitchen drinking my tea, and why is that over there?”. I pointed to the toaster. I knew very well why the toaster was there. I had placed it there several months before when I had purchased it from Currys. I simply wanted to test the postman. He looked at me, as a teacher may look at a simpleton. “Your front door has been missing now”, another sip, another sigh. Then he continued, “for about three weeks now. Ive just been throwing the mail onto your carpet, and I thought you would have noticed, but apparently, you haven’t”. He emphasised those last words.

“Thats all very well” I said, “But why are you in my kitchen?”.

“I came in to tell you that your door is missing”. He continued sipping his tea. A sigh, and then “I’d advise you to get it fixed. You may find less reputable characters than me sitting here of a morning in the future”. He had finished his tea, and so got up and walked out of the door and down the stairs.

I pondered upon this for a while. Perhaps leaving the door as it was would enable me to meet other interesting people. I walked over to the kettle and switched it on for my first cup of tea of the day.

I was walking along the street the other day and, all of a sudden, I realised what it was that had been missing from my life all these years. Brightly coloured felt-tip pens. All the pens I owned (and there were but three or four of them) were fairly drab. Browns and dull greens, certainly not the most inspiring of colours. So I went out and bought some proper pens. Rainbow colours. Colours which inspired joy. From that day onwards, my life was, quite frankly, brilliant

(It really never ends)

This is further fun with cereal here

When you arise in the morning, it’s often a good idea to start the day as you mean to go on. With breakfast cereal. Don’t start the day with mulch or flour. That won’t work and you’ll be left grumpy and vague for the rest of the day and/or night.

What are milk sticks? Are they real? Can they feel? Will they visit me in hopsital when I fall ill?

Cereal is fun. Cereal boxes are more fun. Here are some.