The Hole in the Bottom of the World

Well, outstripped myself with another wake-up call after 11am. These late mornings really take it out of you.

So last night I thought I'd try on my new Sith Darky-Lord costume because the first time I tried it on, it was far too small and I couldn't do the belt up. This time, of course, I'd replaced it with a bigger one and wasn't it funny seeing Grandad standing in the Disney Store in Southampton, well outside his comfort zone looking lost, surrounded by 12 year-olds taller than him and dressed as princesses or Darth Mauls or whatever.

So this one went on fine and YES it looks cool and I've got the Light Sabre to match and NO the socks in the picture are not regular official Sith-issue socks and NO I still couldn't do the belt up even though it's age 11-12 but poo to you, these Sith geezers are the wrong shape.

So I went into the kitchen all togged up and scared Jof, being evil is hard work but it does have its paybacks.

I was naturally looking forward to another day of Capture-the-Minecraft-Flag and cooking batches of Golden Elixir to get a Level 9 Town Hall and chocolate biscuits etc and when he said let's have a bike ride to see the hole in the bottom of the universe I saw that as a threat to my planned day and got quite shirty.

But I was cleverly side-swiped by a dangled carrot. We can cash in your lottery winnings, he said, and that will give you £43 to spend on Pokémon cards although Jof tempered this by saying I could only buy 5 packets.

And so it came to pass that the Lord Your Mungleton cycled to the seafront and only got tired and had to stop once, when we went up the slight incline by Canoe Lake against the wind.

Outside the Pyramids Centre we found where the naughty sea had pulled away the corrugated iron retaining curtain, exposing the concrete underbelly and allowing the sea to smash rocks against the gravel overlay, excavating a big old hole down which some pavement and one of those big metal seafront bins had fallen.

The 20-foot concrete block at the top (behind the talking telescope) is sagging dangerously and may not last the night.

Many people like to watch the world burn and this was a moister experience but many had come to see it anyway, including yours truly, the little blue bloke on top of the sea wall.

We watched the waves and went woo when they came over and saw the concern on the faces of the Council officials in their yellow hi-vis jackets and went home after a bit because I was thirsty. Having a drink before you go out is desperately uncool, I assume you know that. But we stopped off at a corner shop and exchanged all my scratchcards for £43 and a little pink payment slip!

For good measure I also add a video taken from the railings by the white flag saying danger. Don't worry. I'm a professional. Later, Jof went to the gym and we took advantage by watching Star Wars 3: The Creation Of Lordy-Lord Vader-Vader. It was equally loud and you can see how they gradually introduce the familiar shapes of the Stormtroopers and Tie fighters and Wookies and stuff. We were definitely right about ArchChancellor Lipoprotein and I'm sorry to report, laughed at Crispy Fried Lord Vader-Vader. Gosh, these days off are boring.