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The Joker.



I sometimes indulge in little jokes for my own benefit, or to entertain – or irritate – my wife. Take this shopping list, for example:


This morning, I made a few additions:


It now looks less like a collection of items we need for the house and more like an assassination list. Perhaps I should burn it. I’d hate it to be used as evidence in a future court case.

For the record, I haven't got an issue with that three-man hit factory. Their music isn't to my taste, but that doesn’t mean I want to wipe them off the face of the planet. Provided they don’t move in next door and keep me up all night with their distinctive backing tracks, we needn't have a run in. Earth's combined population of 7.1 billion people should be enough to ensure our paths never cross.

I don’t know why I persist with these jokes. Living with me must take a lot of patience. If my wife isn’t mentioned in the New Year’s Honours List, something’s clearly amiss. 

Pete Waterboatman.

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