Went out last night and got really wasted. I woke up next to a fat bird who was snoring and farting. At least I knew I’d got home OK!! The wife's back on the warpath again. She was up for making a home movie last night, and all I did was suggest we should hold auditions for her part. I've accidentally swallowed some Scrabble tiles. My next s**t could spell disaster. My sister-in-law sat on my glasses and broke them. It was my own fault. I should have taken them off. I woke up this morning at 8 and could tell something was wrong. I got downstairs and found the wife face down on the kitchen floor, not breathing! I panicked, I didn’t know what to do. Then I remembered Wetherspoons serve breakfast until 11.30. After both suffering from depression for a while, me and the wife were going to commit suicide yesterday. But strangely enough, once she killed herself I started to feel a whole lot better. So I thought "Sod it". I'll soldier on. And finally . . . I spent a couple of hours defrosting the fridge last night. Or "foreplay" as she likes to call it!