My little brother is before the courts.

Careless Driving, involving a runaway trailer, a rush-hour motorway, and a dickhead co-worker who failed to hook the trailer on properly in the first place.

He’s never been before the courts before and he’s naturally nervous, seeing as a loss of licence could lead to a loss of job. Which would in turn mean he wouldn’t be able to pay any court-imposed fine.

I’ve hung around a few courts, police stations, prisons, gang headquarters and politicians in my time, so he sought my advice.

I couldn’t really think of anything useful to assuage his fears.
Well, except, of course for the traditional:

“Don’t drop the soap”.

(Yes, I am a complete and utter bastard.)

No ants this morning.

It seems the corpses of all their fallen comrades has been enough to warn them off trying to invade my office space.

Which is a shame because I was really looking forward to getting a chance to Blow Shit Up.

D-Missus is annoyed.
Apparently I kept her awake last night with my “deep breathing”. Something about it being like sleeping with a cyclone.

She has kindly asked if, in future, I would be so kind as to… stop … breathing.