I was in bed with flu last week, feeling particularly sorry for myself. And now that I realize I missed this lovely review, I feel even worse about the whole experience. After all, what author wouldn’t be thrilled to read—

“This book is a classic dipper-inner; read it in a session and you’re wasting the opportunity to savour each morsel – like finishing the whole cheeseboard in a sitting, it is self defeating and risks an outbreak of comic constipation.”

I can never thank you enough, Geoff, for tagging me as the literary laxative for comic constipation. [sheds a proud tear…]


I worked with a chap for many years who kept neat to-do lists on post-its. As he progressed up the slippery pole of management, the post-its got bigger and the to-dos more important. They were always laid out the same way. A neat set of columns, with a bullet denoting the start of a new to-do with the to-do itself in squared capitals. He had the habit of leaving a space at the bottom of each column, probably to be able to add in another to-do should the need arise. What I never discerned, when sitting opposite him and studying that day’s little square of yellow, was how he prioritised. ‘Bank’ might jostle with ‘see senior partner’, but after ‘buy stamps’. Some wag, relishing the opportunity afforded by the space at the bottom for a bit of boyish waggery, began to sneak in and add some items that had clearly…

View original post 531 more words