I am having difficulties with Air New Zealand and my stepdog Minty, the Duchess' Jack Russell.
We've been smug up here in Central. Life's a lollipop. We reside in the Dress Circle of Paradise, while the rest of you don't.
I have finally bought myself a breathalyser. I'd become alarmed that I may not be drinking enough, and the worry of it was keeping me awake at nights.
It was a wet Sunday. This is why I wanted to chuck a bottle at my ''smart'' TV, and punch my witless computer.
It is the task of the writer to make sense out of chaos, and to shine the torch of reason down into the pagan mind.
Justice Cudlip Trout, who has been disciplined and banished to Gardening Leave, finds the telephone still rings.
Justice Cudlip Trout, de robed and sent to moulder on Gardening Leave, finds himself invited on a sporting road trip.
It was a beautiful Central evening. The stars hung sparkling from an obsidian sky, and out on the deck, as the day's heat cooled, the barbecue crackled.
Justice Cudlip Trout, sent away on gardening leave, has been wrenched from his geraniums to head the Armed Services inquiry into HMNZS Wellington and its naval inaction against the toothfishermen pirates.
My brown couch - the ''thing'' anchored in Position A in front of the cricket - is taking a beating.
It would be an odd person - a social misfit - who gets through life without spilling a bottle of wine over somebody's crotch or carpet.
I had an editor known to friend and foe as The Cane Toad.
Justice Cudlip Trout has been recalled from Gardening Leave. He presided over the whitewash of officials blamed for Phillip John Smith's notorious escape to Brazil.
I was about to share my insights on potting geraniums, but you must wait. I've been diverted.
It was time to update my will. This is part sober citizenry but - let's be candid - it's also the chance to replace old whims with new whims.
On Saturday night I got out the Footrot Plonk, and rolled up the street to my friend Simon's election night party.
Our most memorable dumb-cluckery and venality occurs in private.
We have received an aerogram from Justice Cudlip Trout, sent on gardening leave after notoriously introducing penal terms for suspects with tattoos.
I haven't done an ocean cruise. I'm wary of group tourism and not that keen to join some boat's B Deck shuffleboard team.
I stood among the milling herd which waited, like cows outside a milking shed, beside the airport's baggage carousel.