Sick of people thinking I am a miserable, grasshopper-dicked bastard with nothing nice to say. Here is a list of things that make me happy:
1) People falling over.
There is nothing, NOTHING funnier than the other guy's misfortune. I'm not talking life-altering stuff like being accosted by Somalian rapists in Solihull, but small, insignificant stuff like bastards tripping over in public. I particularly like it when it's those middle aged fuckers with leather jackets trying to look young and vital. In the puddle in that bus stop outside Clas Ohlson? Yes please sir.
2) Book shops.
I have enough books to equip a small library yet this has absolutely no limiting factor on the amount I buy. Only yesterday I had two hours to kill in Chester and handed over £4 for a used Balzac. Nothing is as relaxing as a book shop. Especially a nice warm one with a lovely dog and some old bitch on the till silently staring out of the window.
I literally cannot survive without coffee. I would rather sacrifice a limb than give up this sacred elixir. It's funny because for many years I was strictly a tea man but now I need at least three Musettis a day - not the cheap crap - or I go into spasm. I could be in an iron lung but as long as I am being supplied decent quality java life is good.
There you go, three things that I like.