If I could only combine George Best with pants peeing I'd be on a winner

It's the gloomiest of glum days here today. I fetched myself out into the drizzle to go pick up some items I'd reserved online in the local Argos store, missed the bus by a long spit, and stood like a clam at the bus stop for 45 fruitless minutes before giving up and going home again to dry off.

About 3.00pm, it was as dark as full night, so I turned on all the Christmas lights and room lamps as well as the electric, flame-effect fire, to try and cheer up the general ambience of lonliness, with some measure of success.

Now I've just had the doorbell rung by the local pre-teen oiks, whose original invention of ringing or knocking at doors and running away is giving them no end of fun. Hope the newspaper they bring home from the shop for upstanding citizen Dad is properly soaked.

My other visitors today -- the ones to this Blog -- are making for interesting statistics. The majority are responding to the "George Best €5 Notes, only €10" post from way back when. It seems to be in the top 3 Google results for those seeking a footballer souvenir. I am intrigued to find the "Peed my pants. Again" post is attracting a steady stream (pun intended) of occasional visitors. It appears I have inadvertantly hit on a fetish subject. Fair play to ye, lads (and presumably lassies). I'm just glad I don't have your cleaning bills.

Ah! The doorbell again. They must be on the way back from the shop. What fun!