Happy post.

Lets just cut straight to the point here shall we?  Last night I clipped my finger nails.  NO, Sit down, sit down!  I know, makes you proud to be British right?  The fact that I take such pride in my appearance that I actually took the time to cut my nails.  The very fact that I'm 35 means it takes me a long time to look respectable in any given situation let alone being manicured to within an inch of what is socially acceptable.  Literally seconds after trimming my nostril hair 12 more spring out of the very same hole.  I have ear hair that, if left unkempt, could stuff a duvet.  I think that along with a bladder that has a built in 5am alarm clock and knees that sound like a skeleton humping a xylophone it's probably just an age thing.

I thought I'd treat myself as it's been way over a year since I last cut them.  Before you puke into your cocoa imagining me attempting some kind of finger based attention seeking feat, flaunting a grand set of crusty, gnarled old nails all furled up like one of those nutters in the Guinness Book of Records let me explain; when the Crohn's gets bad the stuff that makes my nails and hair gets weak. My fingernails turn into something that resembles those really cheap Rizla from the pound shop and what little hair I have on top goes thin and brittle or just falls out.  I was Crohn'sy for a big bit of last year so all that happened and it takes a full year for it to fix itself.  But then yesterday, the glorious moment came when I could dust off the clippers and cut my nails! Hurrah!

You don't know how satisfying it is!  You just don't realise!  You chewers who sit there on the bus giving it the big bite, you pickers who constantly sit and strip away layer after layer of sweet, sweet keratin YOU JUST DON'T REALISE!  You take your French manicured, polished, buffed and painted nails for granted and that's just most of the lads I know.

LOOK! I can scratch stuff again!  I can pick up annoying flat things that have fallen onto other very flat things! I can shell pistachios, pluck sweet guitar melodies and separate LEGO bricks.

I might campaign for a national holiday...