A friend posted something similar recently, but hey ho. Feeling like this, pretty much:
No, it doesn’t mean I want to come gliding down from the rafters to impact chest-first on the rope/turnbuckle and die in front of 20,000 people. Though that wouldn’t be the worst way to go.
Maybe it’s the warmth. Maybe it’s the pie in the fridge. Maybe it’s everything else. Who knows? Who cares? Right, England game’s on in a bit, better get this blog out of the way by finishi