ball, running your fingers along the seam and imagining you're Glenn McGrath (or should that be Jimmy Anderson). Can't sniff it though.

Ooh, new coffee jars, puncturing that foil -- what kind of a puritan peels it off? Is it wrong that a ladyperson also relishes that sub-hymeneal pleasure?

. . which I knew about but Half Man Half Biscuit confirmed.

Acrylic paint. Mmmmm painty.

Satisfyingly soft but firm.

We don't have to wear ties these days most of the time despite working a in a corporate environment and so I actually enjoy putting a tie on for certain meetings. I always wear ties teamed with a double-cuff shirt. So enjoy the process of putting on a tie and putting in cuff-links on the few occasions I do nowadays. Also polishing my shoes as part of the same dressing-up ritual. All very weird I'm sure

brand new socks

(Providing it's a new suit that fits well)That first shrug of the shoulders into the jacket always without fail makes me feel like Frank Sinatra.

Yeah, I know.

Either plopping through the door, or being delivered into work or on the newsagents' shelves (never take the one at the front, reach back). Nothing like it. Untouched and smelling lovely. That's why they'll never go out of fashion.

was the word coined by Douglas Adams in the Meaning Of Liff to describe the sound made by stabbing the foil on top of a new jar of coffee.

...secure in the knowledge that it will soon become warm and I will drift lazily into the arms of sleep.

.....those plastic see-through LP covers they used to have in the racks when shops like WH Smiths sold them in the 70's. It is butterfly-inducing - same effect as the wood polish smell on old school floors.

I'd tell you mine, but everyone knows it already. So it isn't really very unknown.

How about the feel of a golf ball as it flies, perfectly struck, off the clubface of a long iron and sets of on a penetrating trajectory towards a distant green.

Climbing into warm bed with fresh sheets and warm, fresh girlfriend.

errr...I don't mean empty of water, that would be pretty stupid even for me. I meant a pool with no people in and a lovely clear, clean, flat water surface.

Are these "unknown" pleasures, or merely life's little ones?

The smell of old books in second-hand bookshops is paradise. If they are foolish enough to provide a chair, then I'd need to be man-handled out of there.

scabs.

napalm in the morning?

Seeing the rain lashing against the window and deciding to stay where you are.

Peeling dried glue from your fingers

Peeling it off and rolling it into a ball between finger and thumb. It's like a guilt free bogey.

the car, loud.

Jono

I love that me and my dad have season tickets next to each other in the Main Stand but for FA Cup games that I have to pay by the game for I'll always go to my spiritual home over the pitch. I can join in the singing of the curious appropriation of the Marseilleise (sp?) and "OH RYAN LOWE!" at the top of my voice without being shouted down by the codger quotient.

you can't beat that methanol feeling!

Though shoving your nose in a freshly opened bag of wine gums runs it close.

into a full stadium - seeing the open space of the ground, the dense colours of the crowd and the feeling of anticipation in the air.

The feeling of getting the temperature of the shower/bath just right, then jumping in.

Getting home from work and finding that there’s ‘good’ mail: stuff you want rather than bills and invitations to join things you would prefer not to associate with.

Having the back of the neck shaved when getting a haircut.

button

Waking up at the weekend, thinking it's a work day, realising it's not and then having a long extra enhanced lay in.

Also, finding a tenner in an old coat pocket.

And knocking one out before I go to sleep.

Just seeing one of these Beautiful creatures doing what they do fills my heart with joy and breaks it at the same time. I just want to go and hug them but you can't,they are working.

Using Audacity to record Radio 4 dramas off the iplayer.

It's not illegal is it, only I've run out of BASF 180s.

The high-pitched pop of the cork from a brand new bottle of Port or Armagnac. The first pop, when the bottle is full, always sounds best.

The sound of my front door key in the Yale lock that means I'm home from work at last.

Putting on an old vinyl LP while wearing headphones.

Getting home after the commute and running upstairs to take my suit off and change into a t-shirt and joggy bottoms.

Sports gear, essentially. To eat my tea in and generally loll about.

It means I'm home and I can enjoy myself.

Being at home when an auction comes to an end on ebay with no winners at £150 starting price and I contact the seller and offer them £120 for a guitar that costs £450 new. I would not have seen this if I had been at work.
Now who wants to go and pick it up for me?

... before I became sensible and healthy - opening a brand new soft pack of Kent cigarettes and slowly extracting the first one with it's pristine white filter and faint nutty smell. Lighting it with a flourish of a Zippo lighter and that first intoxicating drag.... never again but it was good while it lasted.

you're strolling home and hear the faint sound of an old jazz record drifting out of someone's open window.

A lovely smile from the sexy girl in the shop today. 30 seconds of feeling great and then I'm wondering whether I'm this guy..

Walking through Manchester on a cold and still Saturday evening, about six o'clock, in either autumn or winter, with Coles Corner on the iPod before settling into the Hare and Hounds on Shudehill for a pint before the city centre gets busy again.

Just by sliding the open scissors along.

Has to be proper 3M Post-Its though, the imitators seem to use a different glue/paper combo.

The output from those old hand cranked copiers we had in school in the late 60s/early 70s. Everyone in the class would have them under their noses. Why do I think they were called Gestetners....doesn't sound right to me.