"Cycling about 100 miles every week;
thinking as I go and writing it all down"

Fun

This is not fun.

Brilliant fun; great fun; excellent fun – really, really, bloody good fun. Jolly fun. Damn good fun. Simple fun or, maybe, innocent fun. Good, old-fashioned fun. Even fantastic fun if alliteration’s your thing. Any kind of fun you can think of – a fast-food-chain’s cup with ‘thirsty fun’ written on it is none of them. This is ‘fun’ eviscerated. This is fun abused. This renders the notion of fun wholly, utterly and completely meaningless. This is desecrated fun; debased fun. If this is now understood by anyone as fun, whoever they are, however old or young they are, where ever they are, however otherwise deprived of fun in any sensible sense of the word they are, then they have been cruelly conned. If I was feeling forgiving, I’d feel pity for the foul, fun-free, fun-wrecking individual responsible, because somewhere along the line, someone was.

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