Inky, pinky, ponky …

Daddy had a donkey …

Daddy died, donkey cried …

Inky pinky, ponky …

So, here I am 1 year/12 months/365 days later (not that I am counting)… sipping on a glass of single malt, pondering differences, contemplating sameness, wondering why …

Nearly smacked Trent tonight, and there is no reason why he would know … Walking through the Chermside shops, amazed at the diversity of people, listening to my iPod, there is a sensation of somebody calling to me, then I am aware of a group of male youths separating, one heading across the front, signalling for my attention, the other continuing onwards, perpendicular to my direction of travel … oh wait, the former is Trent …