I think it was Matt Biondi who, having failed miserably to win the number of gold medals predicted for him by an hysterical American media, said "Oh well, my dog will still lick my face in the morning".
Yesterday, having just fucked up on a football bet enough to wreck a week's hard work, Bobby wandered over and effectively said "Oh dear, never mind old chap, now what's for me tea..."
We could all do with such sunny outlooks: Getting up and having a pee - 'best part of day'; walking to newsagents, barking at cars - ' best part of day'; brekkie weetabix and egg - 'best part of day'; eating horse pooh -'best part of day'; chasing pheasants - 'best part of day'; sniffing Millie the one-eyed husky's bum - 'best part of day'; spreading mud all over sofa 'best part of day'; Anne coming home - 'best part of day'; half a ton of kibble and tripe in jelly - 'best part of day'; helping Anne load dishwasher - 'best part of day'; keeling over at 9pm sharp for an 11 hour snoozathon chasing rabbits - 'best part of day'....
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