Telly and Toilet

It's a Sunday, there's nothing on the telly, I have my laptop on my lap (rather appropriately) and so the time has come for me to add another contribution to my pointless, yet perpetually expanding, blog.

Well, I say there's nothing on the telly. I haven't checked. Let's see.
Guide...
EastEnders... God, no.
Masters Snooker... I'm already within swiping distance of going comatose, thank you very much.
Columbo: An Exercise in Fatality... mmmmm, nahhh. Maybe as a last resort. Wait, this is the last resort. Scratch that, then.
T4: The Simpsons... bingo! Ooh, and a classic! That'll do! I can enjoy its wit whilst continuing this blog!

Right, onwards!
Have you ever noticed how moments of inspiration seem to mostly happen in the bathroom? I can be on the loo, or brushing my teeth, or having a shower, and I'll inevitably start to daydream furiously. I couldn't even start to come up with the notions I do in the bathroom right now, because my brain simply isn't working as quickly. I think it's the solitary sense of security and peace, the sense that as long as you're in there, you are entitled to be completely alone, and the bathroom is the only room in the house that has that sense.

...

Erm... I can't think of anything else to say on that matter.
Well, point proven.

Bye, then.