Scotch On The Rocks.

I woke up a couple of days ago with this stuck in my head. I can’t even imagine what I might’ve been dreaming.

I’ve exhausted all of my options for putting off water changes today and have no legitimate reason not to get started. This is not a legitimate reason because I’m not saying anything here and indeed, have nothing of importance to say. Just a bad case of heart disease and dropsy keeping my arse glued to the chair. I don’t even have a hangover I can blame. I could start watching Black Books or the rest of Father Ted, but then I’d be here for literally hours and the poor fish would never get their changes. Better to get it over with, I guess, then settle in with Bernard, Manny, Fran and a big bag of barbeque chips. Gawd, I hate being responsible.