My late father

Well, here we are. After what seems like an age, I've finally bought into doing what my late father did and have started documenting my life. The notable difference being that I'm doing it as it happens....my father started, and indeed finished it, the day he drowned in a vat of whisky. It took him several hours, as he had to climb out three times to relieve himself.

It's doubtful, as my father found out to his cost, that we'll get past paragraph four, but hope springs eternal. At least I'll be using a half decent keyboard as opposed to my father who used fingernails on the sides of a large copper basin.