Monday 11th June - Eggs

The thing about putting all of your eggs into one basket is that if you drop that basket you are left with no eggs at all. They are all smashed and broken. But if, on the other hand, you de-cantered your eggs into several different baskets, and then happened to accidentally drop one of the said baskets, then you still have some eggs left in your other baskets. You do however limit yourself to an, albeit guaranteed, much smaller omelette. Whereas the first method, the single basket method, leaves you the outside chance of the biggest omelette you have ever seen in your life.

I think what I'm trying to ask here - in the style of an Eric Cantona of cookery - is; is it better to concentrate on one goal fully and solely, or to spread your ambition over a wider field?

I'm not at all sure, but I do like omelettes.

Sunday 10th June - Threat

A couple of weeks ago I received the following unexpected text message from a number I didn't recognise;

'Stay away from my girlfriend you piece of shit. I'm gonna fucking kill you. I know where you live.'

That's weird, I thought, and slightly scary. To my knowledge I hadn't been going anywhere near anybody's girlfriend in the first instance, and secondly, I'm not a piece of shit. Am I? It surely must have been some kind of administrative error from the sender of the text, managing to get the number of the wrong Tom Sadler - and from my research earlier in the year, there seems to be rather a lot of Tom Sadler's about, so easily done I suppose. 

But the fact that they'd obviously made this admin error in finding my phone number may also have meant they'd managed to get my address too, which brought the second half of the text into play; the fact that they were going to kill me. And not just kill me, 'fucking' kill me. Presumably implying in the literal sense of the word, some kind of sexual edge to the act of murder - surely the only appropriate murder for the 'piece of shit' who's been knocking around with this bloke's Mrs would be to, in his eyes, knock me around before knocking me off, or even to exact the punishment in such a violent manner as to cause my untimely death.

All this was worrying.

Until my friend texted me saying it was him - using someone else's phone to send the text as a hilarious joke. And that is the punchline to this anecdote.