kipping at marks
i'm kipping round at marks tonight on account of the wife having slung me out again. talk about kick a man when he's down.
i can't be bothered arguing with her in fairness. this whole fiasco at the weekend's phased me good and proper.
anything for a quite life at the moment that's my motto. i need a a good rest and mark's spare room is just the place to get it.

it's a good job i'm between jobs at the
you got to thank the lord for small mercys i suppose.

on the subject of work ... i was gabbing with john on the plane home and he reckons we
should all go into business together. painting and decorating.

he's always having these ideas is john. it'll probably come to nothing.

mark's missus knocked us up a nice bit of supper tonight. nothing worse than going to bed
on an empty stomach is there. could have done with a beer to wash it down with but i
can't complain. i'm easily pleased me.

i'm lying on the put-you-up in their spare room writing this. left mark on
the sofa downstairs watching some film about a rugby team that crash their plane
into the side of a mountain. it's not long before they run out of grub and start eating
eachother. not sure mark should be watching films like that when i think about it.
not with his depression and all that.

oh well. lights out. i reckon.