Filler

I have nothing to say. Sorry. But tonight I'm going on a date, and, given past form, I'm sure there'll be some new material tomorrow. In the meantime, here are some things you can do in the absence of LLFF:

1. Take a moment to appreciate the wonders of existence.
2. Be thankful that you are not five stone heavier than you are now.
3. Stare out of the window for a bit.
4. Eat some malt loaf.
5. If you've been to China, Vietnam and/or Cambodia, jot down some helpful bullet points for me to consider as I try to decide where I'm going.
6. Write my first award-winning novel/non-fiction work of unquestionable brilliance for me and send it to me as a Word document so that I can adapt it into my own unique style for submission to publishers and agents the world over.
7. Have a really good stretch.
8. Memorise the names and faces of everyone in the new cabinet for future pub quiz victory/dinner party smuggery.
9. Make my day: tell a friend about LLFF.
10. Drink some water. You know you should.
11. Write a thank-you letter. I'm sure there's one you owe.
12. Phone your mum and tell her you love her. If you don't have a mum, tell your dad. I don't mean tell your dad that you don't have a mum. I'm presuming he knows that. Tell him you love him, you fool. If you don't have a dad or a mum, then give yourself a big hug. Parents are amazing; not having them must suck. I high five you.
13. Do some pelvic floor exercises.
14. List three things about yourself that you think are amazing. Then bask in your own brilliance.
15. Love me always.