I would like to publicly thank them for the effort they put in but find it necessary to put an addendum on my original request. The best way to explain why is to let you know the note that came with the picture:

    “Dear Snowman, I hope you like the picture and would love to get a similar one in return. Lots of Love…Stephen”

    Well, thank you Stephen but it wasn’t quite my intention to receive a picture of an erect penis, especially one that looks like a carrot that’s two weeks past it’s sell by date. I was rather hoping my in-box would be full to overflowing with nude photos of readers from the opposite gender but I guess I’ve got more chance of scratching the back of my knees with my eyebrows.

    Maybe I should stop being a perv, aim at something a little more realistic and hope to get the usual poison pen letters and hate mail from cat lovers and Celine Dion fans.

    This brings me, tenuously, to today’s entry.

    The current Mrs. Snowman arrived home from work and requested I drive to the shops to purchase a few provisions. I know this will be exasperating for a number of reasons. Firstly, she always manages to park the car so close to the wall that I have to perform a lateral limbo dance to squeeze past the door and then contort myself into all sorts of unnatural positions as the seat has been moved so close to the steering wheel that I nearly dislocate my hip trying to sit down. Having moved the seat back, adjusted the mirrors, and removed the stick-on air freshener from the windscreen I turn the radio on. Celine Dion assaults my ear drums at six hundred decibels and it takes me another minute to fiddle around with the controls while I locate a radio station that doesn’t play music that I would only listen to under extreme torture.

    Having finally reversed into the road, I get the inevitable phone call. After rummaging around in several pockets the call is terminated a split second before it reaches my ear. Without bothering to check the caller ID I phone the wife back to ask what else was required…she hadn’t forgotten anything, it was simply a call to make sure I hadn’t forgotten my phone.

    I can picture her giggling her arse off as she hangs up.

    Mrs. Snowman has a very warped sense of humour; she must have…after all, she married me.

    You’ll all be pleased to hear I got my own back later in the evening after I had to remove the electrical fuse for the house lighting as I installed a new socket in the dining room. I had a great feeling of revenge as I listened to her expletives while she used the toilet in complete darkness before going to bed.

    I like to think it wasn’t the failed seating at her first attempt but the misdirected after-wipe a few moments later.

    Misdirection was also something I was guilty of in the first two freerolls of the day when I neglected to spot a flush draw and an over pair that both times wiped out my chips stacks. There’s a $100 tournament at midnight so by lunchtime tomorrow I may have added to the pitiful balance currently sat in my account…but probably not.

    Oh, I almost forgot; the other thing about the e-mail from Stephen. I didn’t let you all know the first part of the message as I’m pretty sure his initial request is probably illegal in most countries, besides I don’t know where to get hold of a hamster at short notice. But if you’d like to give me your address I’d be delighted to send you a cat…

Starting bank:  $0