The all-new-brand-spanking-new-never-to-be-repeated 100th issue of Th'Word has just announced itself and the cover is...v poor.

Sorry, the content is probably as splendid as usual. But. 100th issue. Cover. No. No. No.

Right, that's over. I'll settle down and absorb.

I know, I know. Middle aged bloke, home alone, listens to LP he enjoyed in his youth. Ya-de-ya.

But...

It's a belter.

Or was he?

Stand up going down a storm...check
Prime Time TV...check
Happy home life...check (acknowledged, not privy to peek behind the net curtains)

We all make stupid mistakes but how magnified are they in today's multimedia spotlight?

...I tell you, Underpants & Bear...together? Ooh...

Not to mention B7, Hannah & other metropolitan massiverati...

Blimey! I'd like to say there'll be murder on that there dancefloor. But there won't. There'll be a big old Word love in that I can read about tomorrow.

I love this blog!

Have a great time people.

I must point out at this early juncture that this is not a suicide thread!

And I know that we all get these days but I must say mine are becoming increasingly frequent. By this I mean days when everything is a right old effort. I plough my way into work which takes me a ridiculous two & a half hours to wade my way through a job I dislike. By the time I get back there's hardly any time to see my kids before their bedtime and I find that I'm too tired to do the things I actually enjoy doing.

There's an increasing ball of frustration building up that I can't find a way of actually achieving a satisfying existence. Don't get me wrong I love my family, that's the part that is rather wonderful but I've got books I want to read, music to listen to (a whole album, in one go, all the way through...oh the luxury!), take up painting again, sort the garage out. Okay, the last one can wait but I think you get the idea.

I feel there's a persistent barrier that I can't break down. I'm sure it's just a passing phase but it's a bloody long one.

There, that's better. Breathe...

As you were. Ignore the ageing fool in the corner.

...as Imani Coppola once said. Anyway. I'm Home Alone. The GLW has taken the offspring to deepest darkest North Wales. I've enjoyed the last dregs of yesterday's bottle of rouge. I'd like some more. Clearly I can't drive to replenish my stocks. However, my next door neighbours are away on their hols (they're teachers, it could last a while). I have a key. They have a wine rack. What do we think..?