You’ve probably also noticed that every now and again I write an entry which isn’t in the slightest bit amusing or entertaining. This makes all the others seem a lot better than they actually are.

    Working on this premise I’m going to throw in a really crap one today.

    In truth, I should say today’s is sick rather than crap…I should explain.

    Mrs. Snowman finally gave in to my continual bickering and agreed to convert our domestic static Internet connection to wireless. I made a few enquiries on-line, found the perfect piece of equipment and made preparations to drive to the nearest computer store to get it.

    Surrogate daughter and her offspring decided they also wanted to tag along so before the journey started I had to put in the kids safety seat and clean off the parcel shelf from anything that could be grabbed by inquisitive little hands. We eventually set off with a full car and before we reached the end of the road I knew I’d made a huge error.

    A sound came from the back seat like someone spilling a can of vegetable soup on a wooden floor. When I slammed the brakes on and turned around, to my horror it also looked like it.

    Small child had thrown up.

    I wish there was another word I could use to better describe what greeted my eyes but I don’t believe there is one. If you remember the scene in Pulp Fiction where John Travolta shoots that guy in the face and his head explodes across the inside of his car, it might give you some indication of the scene.

    There is no way Small Child could possibly have eaten that amount of food.

    It was absolutely repulsive.

    I drove the rest of the way to the store with my head sticking out of the window.

    We purchased a very funky looking wireless router with lots of pretty flashing lights and wandered back to the car.

    Small Child decided it wasn’t content with a solitary chuck, waited until the exact moment I opened the door and performed an encore. It gave a googling noise and a little baby laugh before happily surveying its handiwork.

    The return trip was not the happiest of journeys particularly after I suggested Small Child should not be fed again until mid-February.

    It took me nearly three hours to get the new hardware working (I neglected to read the instructions, assuring Mrs. Snowman I knew what I was doing) even though the box stated in very big letters that it could be done in three minutes.

    This was also about the same length of time it took surrogate daughter to clean up the car.

    I won’t go into any more detail about this incident and try to remove it from my mind by talking about the poker.

    I’ve discovered the reason for yesterday’s disappearing funds by the way.

    Beer.

    I don’t think I need to explain further.

    The single freeroll I entered today produced zero winnings and as I was otherwise engaged with sorting out the new wireless thing that kept breaking down I didn’t play any other tables. Hopefully I will rectify this tomorrow.

    As I write these words you may consider it was a day that simply couldn’t get any worse but there is one last thing that approaches me like a turd in a swimming pool.

    Mrs. Snowman is making one of her curries.

    May God have mercy on my bowels.

Starting bank:  $0