Arse Over Tit.

At 8am I woke up sneezing. My unknown allergy continues to confound me. Now, with 10 minutes to go in a hammering at the hands of Southampton, I am still sneezing.
I cycled all the way to Portobello this morning only to discover my camera battery was dead.
And then I tripped over this heavy, soft thing (which, I am told, is a doorstop) and landed face down on the decking. I stared at the fucker for some time trying to formulate some kind of revenge but decided that inanimate heavy, soft things can never be hurt to the extent that I desired.
And still I sneeze.
Perhaps I'm allergic to my entire miserable existence.