8639/21558
Now we've lost Richard J Herring. The 26 Richard Herrings are falling like 26 nine-pins. Once all of us are gone the world ends. If you know a Richard Herring please look after him.
You have to admit that Richard Herrings are dying at an alarming rate. It can't be that common a name. Is anyone keeping a record of which of the 26 middle initials have been struck off? Fate has tried to take out the Special K (as the other Richard Herrings call me) but I will survive. As long as I have love to give.
It seems that (so far at least) I am doing fine, unlike my puny Richard Herring colleagues. I've played two quite intense games of tennis in the last two days. Even at 9am the sun has been hot, but the play was competitive and I just about continued my unbeaten form, taking the set 6-4 after five failed set points.
Just when we're getting good at this we have to stop for a month, as we're both away in August, but really enjoying this as a form of exercise. It's a pretty good work out, but I don't really notice that because it's fun and because (you may have noticed) I perform well when there's victory at stake.
I was about to go 4-3 down when my opponent sliced a beautiful return across court. Neither of us thought I'd get it, but somehow I returned it. I had to do the same thing in the same rally and took the crucial point. I reckon I could easily take a point off Serena Williams. I am that good.
On another court some proper men were playing and hitting the ball so hard that it made me feel like I was a 6-year-old playing on the beach.
But I'd say to any late middle-agers (am I allowed to pretend 59 is in anyway in the middle bit?) that tennis is a great form of exercise, though hard to play as Me1 vs Me2.
Having said that I suddenly remember I did play Me1 vs Me2 tennis when I was a kid. I would play up against the wall at home and Cheddar tennis club also had a big wooden board on the fence at one end, so if no one else was around you could practice.
I don't feel like I had a solitary childhood, but the amount of time I spent playing myself at snooker or Subbuteo or practicing catching a cricket ball by throwing it at one of those bouncy nets or watching 14 hours of TV a day.... hmmm.
And now my only real friend is a 134 year old ventriloquist dummy.
I am happy on my own. I love it.
There's some fun arguments in this one and it seems to me like somehow Ally and me were talking over each other. I really have no idea what is coming up in this show, so it's a genuine stream of consciousness (mostly from Ally to be fair). He's knocking the songs out of the park right now. Whether you find it funny or not, this show is extraordinary and you should definitely be watching it.
Having said that I am away for almost all of August, but there are plenty of others to catch up on. I believe this is episode 88.
I am slightly perturbed by the fact that Ally is right that I am bad at enunciating and put in a lot of ers and you knows, whilst he talks freely and easily and lyrically. That's a bit weird. But then again, it's all a bit weird.
