Why is it that every single time that I walk past this point I suddenly get a crazed urge to eat a donut. A big donut. Am I really turning into Homer Simpson.
I have his hair. I have his athletic figure. I have a habit of breaking things. I broke the work roller shutter doors today. Apparently they don’t like repeatedly going up and down, which is a shame as I find that strangely mesmerising. I don’t feel too bad about that, someone broke them the week before when they lowered the doors onto a van. Someone else broke them a few days before that when they reversed a van through them, they definitely don’t like that. The would be Lewis Hamilton or Ricky Bobby (you might need to look them up) forgot to open them prior to doing that particular manoeuvre. Sorry that shows my extensive knowledge of American Motor Sport 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Clearly I’m not that only one saying D’oh round here.
The postman apparently posted his watch through our neighbours door yesterday.
Maybe it’s a Yorkshire Middle Age Man thing.
That’s a sobering thought.
What’s that behind me….
It’s my career chances to be Thor or James Bond.
Still as one door closes, another roller door is smashed open.
These are the years of being Homer Simpson’s Yorkshire Stunt Double.
As we say round here.
Ee by gum. Or should I say Ee by D’oh.