I Work for Mr Fandango…

Two miles in the morning, hot breakfast, cleaned up, Morning Prayer, handwrote a couple of notes, marked tomorrow’s essay, walked the dogs, went to my GP for my ‘NHS Health Check’ which in the younger country we call a plain old check-up, looked in at the Abingdon County Hall Museum pretty good, though the display signage makes some poor design choices), and home to the ladies.Initial reports from the check-up are very positive (that I’m alive).

Sometime in the midst of all that, a random neuron fired and I had to look up this advert:

Now, imagine Pippa, about eight years old and madly gifted at amusing her brothers and parents, delivering that final punchline.

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