What we need you see is a fucking great palm tree

So started off today with a man with a bad hair do. Mr Donald Trump. Missed the fact that a new celebrity apprentice had started, well not new it’s probably about five years old. Anyway, stayed in bed and watched it on iPlayer. Had disappointing sex, well if you can call it that, fap, fap, fap. Got up. Had lunch. Picked up the dog shit. Then decided as it was only about two degrees that it would be a great idea to go for a run. Plus I actually bought some new kit yesterday so I no longer had to make a thermal top last three run sessions. So I donned said lycra arrangements and ran eight miles. Came back and removed sweaty bits, left my compression tights on, much to Jamie’s hilariarity. They stop my legs turning into an eighty year old, I can run mils and still feel great, even if I do look like a WWF wrestler.

As my home brew had brewed it was time to start adding things and stirring stuff. So I did. And now positioned the giant barrel on a chest of drawers ready to syphon off when it clears. Also steamed the labels off a few bottles, that’s quite hard going actually. Still all sterilised now and ready for the juice. I think I’m going to do another white after this and then may be try a red. I’ve asked people to keep their empties as bottles is one thing I’m short of.

Bled the radiators. As the pump is running flat out, all they are doing is sucking in air at the moment. I checked and cleaned out the filter, it wasn’t bad but will give it another week.

Thinking about getting a few house plants to brightened the place up a bit. Although I’ve resisted the temptation to but a 30ft palm tree.

I think I’m pretty much done for the weekend now, time to take the lycra off.

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