I don’t mean to be a self-horn tooter, but…

(It’s very apt.)

Many, many, many moons ago — I’m talking like maybe thousands — twat features here

had one of his little hissy fits he’s prone to having with inanimate objects.

This time it was a laptop.

It didn’t end well.

The exact ins and outs of why I lost my shit is lost to time, but I beat the one part of a laptop one should never beat ’til it’s bent : the place that makes the laptop laptop.

(Reenacted footage)

I reduced the poor thing to a disability stick stuck up its backside.

Worst of all, I lost my music!

My ❤️ playlist was as dead as a Dodo and just as gone.

And who was guilty?

Tut tut tut.

It’s taken years.

It’s been many failed attempts.

It’s been spending months and years convinced I loved a song, only to find out it was a general mixer.

But finally, I have a ❤️ playlist that is tune after tune, hit after hit, excuse after excuse for underwear sing-alongs!

Not a ‘skip’ button in sight.

Tomos James