Blame it on the Radio

"did you marry your teacher, or did you just have sex?"

I like turning on Radio 4 at random times during the day. As a student, the times of day that one comes home to one's room can often be fairly random. I'm a great fan of the almost incomprehensibly inappropriate subjects which are on during the day and night. Inappropriate not in the moral sense, despite what the opening quote may indicate, but as things that students just shouldn't be listening to. Early in the morning and the evenings are disappointingly predictable.
News.
Politics.
Comedy.
Well, Radio 4 comedy is like nothing else, but it's almost too acceptable to listen to. Among some people it's almost cool. I do sometimes wish I was always washing up at 6:30pm on weekdays.

But gardening? Strangely alluring. Really - I just don't know what it is that makes me want to sit there and absorb polite elderly people recommending this season's exciting south-facing, light-soil-preferring, disease-resistant geraniums to each other. But it draws me in and hangs onto me like a shadowy beast, following the trail of crumbs falling from the dissolving cookie in my perforated pocket lining. Usually relegated to the recesses of mere dread but perpetually recluse and festering. The vice that would not need to be hidden away in secret, simply because it would never occur in public. Like how many sheets of toilet paper is your custom - no-one knows, and no-one asks. Just when I think I've forgotten about it... Like the way that I have just lost The Game. (sorry!)... I absent-mindedly wander in, push the button and get ensnared again.