10/01/2025
Good afternoon, Haroldites.
We just popped back to see if we'd left a bag of barley sugars in the office. Sadly not.
For old time's sake we fired up the Amstrad PCW 8256 and, whilst it was warming up, nipped over to the Lickers for half a pint of anything that didn't have something wriggling in the bottom of the glass.
That took longer than might be imagined but upon our return we were distraught to discover that someone hadn't been paying the bills for the hosting site, meaning we couldn't read some of our fine prose of yesteryear, not to mention the dross.
Anyway, you'll not be surprised to learn that it was all down to Cleggsy McCoy, our long-term office blame monkey.
After we'd paid him the arrears of his pocket money, he tricycled to the Post Office for a postal order, and you'll be delighted to learn the system is now back up and running. Not the system where we write any new stories (what were you thinking?) but the much less taxing system whereby clicking on an old story brings it back in all its glory.
Too late for a "Merry Christmas", of course, but perhaps not too late to wish you and yours a reasonably content New Year. Or at least a peaceful weekend.
Toodle pip!
