I turn five this week. Thursday, being precise. Five years of Radgery. Isn't that nice?
It started with a Waga Mama recipe from the white chair in Lucan, followed up with some Carpenters lyrics, onwards with three and a half years' worth of nights out chronicled - each entry as repetitive as the one before and after and before and after - and then a review of 'PS I Love You' that ushered in the current era of random nonsense that has seen me become a legend in my own granny flat.
Things I don't write that much about anymore:
The Stag's Head.
5X. But he will resurface.
I'm joking, of course. I have never written about doughnuts.