Blimey it's nearly Christmas again...

This time last year Sarah had sodded off to Brum and left me to pine away, I was suffering from some kind of cold which turned out to polyps and I was desperately trying to find a new job. This year... errr... Sarah is staying in Swansea with me. That's right, nothing else has changed!

I went to hospital yesterday to discuss the operation that I may require but it turns out that they don't like to operate on hunks of burning love like myself. They didn't put it that way of course. Their exact wording was something like "If you were a bit taller you would be closer to your target weight". What? Are they trying to tell me that I need to grow? Surely as medics they know I am at full height now and will only start to shrink from hereon in!

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