Christmas is coming and Manley's getting fat.

Who'd want to sped a penny where the old man shat?

I weigh 202.8lbs

=================
I am having a poo
=================

I weigh 201.3lbs

Despite a Chinese meal last night and an Indian take-away this evening, I did not need to visit Ivor until nearly eleven o'clock this evening, yet I still appear to be somewhat overweight, even by my standards from before I changed my target weight.

I also really do not care.

I had an alarmingly productive day today and will have to put in some serious apathy time if I am going to get back to a normal standard.

The problem with working in a US-centric industry is that I find myself staying up until midnight to chat with Merkins about engine behaviour when I really should be in bed with my wife.

Damn, but I'm just too good.

Best part of today? We were listening to the 12 days of Christmas and the bit about Geese, what is that? Seven?

No, That's Maids a milking. Hmm. 7 swans a-swimming - SWANS! what was I thinking about with the maids, eh? 7 swans a-swimming 6 geese a-laying, 5 go-old rings. I could have stopped when I realised it was 6, but I like the gold rings bit, it always brings me out in Christmas cheer.

Anyway, I digress, we were at day six or, at the very least, on one of the later days and just passing through the laying geese, en-route back down to the inevitable partridge, when the server suddenly and catastrophically died.

This resulted in a transformation of the office from a subtle, warming, Christmassy hue to a hard-house techno delight as we were exposed to a full four minutes of GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!GEESE!

Imagine the annoying boy from number 12, the one who always wears that beige check scarf and the silly jeans that he obviously hasn't got a belt for, with the music turned up in his 1989 Peugot.

That's what we got. It was sublime.