There is a Crater in Ostend

Look, it was a technical malfunction okay? If I had intended launching a missile at Belgium I'd have programmed it to take out Brussels.

I've had a right week of it, one way and another. Groida wants a train set for Xmas and cites Frank Sinatra and Rod Stewart as respectable enthusiasts in order to justify his own feeble manic obsession.

All I said was I'd paint swastikas on the rolling stock and blow the lot up as heroic leader of the Ambrosian Maquis; it was a bit of fun! I had barely stopped cackling when Auntie Pamela had me pinned against a wall, poking me in the larynx with a toilet brush. There is a culture of bullying around here which will have to be addressed.

Then there are the ongoing problems with Y Nauci 14. Practising my festive medley, I had barely launched into "Mary's Boy Child" when I was enveloped in a sheet of flame and given an involuntary tour of Padstow before coming to an abrupt halt when the half-track fell off. I nearly buckled me schnozz on the keyboard!

I suppose I will have to go crawling to Uncle Lucas for assistance, which will inevitably mean tools being thrown about and lots of swearing in Welsh. Marvellous. Have a good weekend, those of you who still follow me.