I have discovered a golf game on my mobile that is giving me so much enjoyment that I had a terrible thought: What if I might actually like golf?
I have cast the thought out my mind. It doesn't matter how much pleasure I would get from it. I will never do it. Because then I would be a golfer. And that simply cannot happen.
This has actually happened before. My friend bought back Tiger Woods for the Playstation when we were in uni. We mocked the fuck out of him for it, of course.
I mean, we mocked him for days for that shit. But then we realised something important. We were all stoners at the time. And this was a game that could be played slowly and, crucially, with one hand, leaving the other free for a spliff.
Check the wind. Move the little arrow thingy. Have a look at the gradient. Have a chat. Smoke a while. Take a little shot. It was stoner bliss that thing.
Of course we never apologised for mocking him, or admitted we played it.
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I might have actually felt quite warmly towards the government today. Bit of light refraction from the surge of sudden optimism, recognition that they got in there quick buying this stuff up.
But of course it has to be packaged up with a bunch of desperate self-serving lies - the kind you can refute in five minutes.
We've looked at broad incentives, rationally understood - ie Johnson under attack for competence and knows no-deal will be seen as incompetent. Or, on the other side, Johnson having to placate ERG headbangers.
But I think that falls apart on two levels. Firstly, it underplays the chaos of all political events - the personalities at the heart of them, making decisions often on instinct, or due to moments defined by chance.
Really is the height of foolishness to share clips of Leave voters expressing regret about their vote with mocking comments about how you feel no sympathy for them.
Over the next few months, as the practical consequences of Brexit finally become clear, there is an opportunity for some Leavers to turn against it. That can help build momentum towards a closer relationship and - eventually, a bit down the line - rejoining.
But that won't happen if the response to people saying they regret their vote is Remainers sticking their tongue out at them. It simply consolidates the sense of tribal animosity.
I over did it with the tree. Got overexcited and brought a proper sized Christmas tree into a London flat and now it's basically towering over the living room like a Doctor Who villain.
It looks weirdly like an alter. I mean, to anyone passing by seeing it through the window we'll look like fucking Christmas fanatics.
The tree is blocking out the light from the window, making the room all gloomy during the daytime. I've fucked this thing right up.
Well, that was the last piece I'll ever have to upload for the site. As of Monday I am editor-at-large rather than editor of Politics.co.uk.
This'll rightly mean fuck all to you. It's just about the work that's done behind the scenes - commissioning, editing, subbing, publishing etc. But to me it is a massive deal.
I've been trying to get to this kind of situation for years: where I can be financially stable on writing alone, without having to do other things in order to fund it. Now I've actually... well, it seems I've actually fucking achieved it.