It's the final countown (again)

Yes, ladies, gentlemen, and internet weirdos. I have a date.

Not a 'date' date. I don't do those any more since I'm deeply in love with Emily and we don't do 'dates' as such.

I never really did 'dates' anyway.

And I'm not referring to dates as in the fruit either. They are nice though. Call me weird but whenever I eat one I can't help imagining myself like Roman emperor or some kind of Persian Satrap on a couch somewhere lounging around munching them all day and ordering gruesome executions for the amusement of my flatterers and hangers on. A bit like olives.

No. Readers of this blog...the moment you have all been waiting for has arrived...I can now confirm the official time and date at which I will cease to be homeless.

At 2pm on Saturday 28th of October I will sign a contract for a flat overlooking the Oval cricket ground. This is a very very good thing. I can't wait.

There will be no persian style couches or flatterers or hangers on unfortunately. Although the landlord has promised us a bijoux coliseum in the back yard with a couple of circus lions thrown in.