Whilst I have always been pro choice on the grounds of human rights, I have lived too long with my 'bump' to erase its existence in a moment of flippant emotional disregard. I sense a level of communication with the book (perhaps this is telepathy?) akin to that which normally occurs between blood bound relatives, even though they may be continents apart.
If only I could work out what the book is saying to me?
Could it be: "Get a fucking life Panton!"...
...or perhaps, "Get a fucking move on Panton!"
Well, I guess its plain to see, that if I 'get a fucking move on', then I will surely be free once more to 'get a life' - with, of course, the added advantage that you lot get to finally test the N Wales bouldering hypothesis.
Simple really.
If only they'd told me that when I first started on this trail to hell.
Oh well, we live and learn.