The end is nigh. The citadel of the enemy lies in ruins, the future overlords prepare themselves for power and Bruno Ganz is feeling an Oscar coming on.
My penultimate patch oozes its low tar essence into my upper arm and all is uncertainty. Whither now matey-face?
No more Mr K? No more desperate cravings? The gradual reduction of sugar and caffeine? Normality returning?
I feel blog-panic coming on.
Oooh I need a cigarette.
Ah ha. There is hope after all.
I’m off to prepare the fireworks for the New Day Zero.