For this, I return to the topic of my uncharacteristically unshouty musing on Sunday, and to my friend Kev.

On the face of it, Kev and I shouldn’t be friends. Our conversations often consist solely of insults. We have a saying about this. If you get insulted, it’s only borrowed because you’ll pay it back.

He’s sharp, definitely not unintelligent, but would be the first to admit he has little formal schooling. Yet here I am with an honours degree. Physically we’re as different as chalk and cheese, with the exception of the fact we both shave our heads. I have pointed out to him that in my case it’s a lifestyle choice, whereas if he stops shaving his bonce he’s going to find that the Father Cadfael look is no longer fashionable.

He’s a keen footie fan. Well, he supports Arsenal, so that may be a bit inaccurate. As you all know, my tolerance for football is about zero, apart from when I keep an eye on things to allow me to taunt my footie fan friends about their team’s abysmal performance.

We have common ground in our like of attention to detail when we undertake DIY projects. He’s the only bloke I know, apart from me, who routinely uses a spirit level when mounting plug sockets and light switches, though even he draws the line at levelling the horizontals in the frame for a stud wall as I do. He can drive nails, too, something I am pitifully inadequate at, and hand saw wood in a straight line, a skill that has similarly passed me by on the other side of the road.

We also share disdain for one bloody irritant; see Sunday’s post for the definition of that. Said BI’s arrival is guaranteed to get both sets of eyebrows raised and eyes rolling.

However, there’s one other area of agreement, and that’s my blog. He’s an avid fan, reads pretty much every post, and has been known to break down with hysterical laughter in a public place when caught on the funny bone.

We were nattering about my blog the other day, and he came up with a suggestion that at first sounds a bit morbid. He felt that, should I turn up my toes or otherwise find it impossible to maintain my blog, he’d like to post a last entry listing his favourite blogs of mine.

As I say, sounds a bit morbid, but it’s no different from making a will, is it? And I was rather touched. Hence he now has my user name and password.

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