Delightful pleasures can be pretty cheap.

There are many things in life that bring me pleasure. Rum, sex, concerts, buttery toast, beans on toast, finishing a run, mashed potato with gravy, sleeping in an extra half hour in a warm bed, not answering the phone, not listening to jazz, reading that James Rand has exposed that fucking baby whispering freak Derek Ogilvie as yet another woo woo fraud.
All these things are a delight. But they are a sort of everyday delight, not to detract from them of course, few things can be more delightful than not answering a phone WHILE eating buttery toast. But some delights are more delightful than others and I want to share one with you.
This delight is so utterly delightful that that no matter how glum my day it puts me into good humour.
I am devoted drinker, but owing to my unwillingness to become a raving alcoholic I must harness my devotion and take long and tedious breaks from my beloved hooch. I will gaze fondly at my drinks globe and sigh heavily. Not today beloved rum, don't look at me like that wine, oh honey bee ale, I miss you too. This sort of crying will go on for much of the week. It's hearbreaking, rather like I've sent alcohol off to boarding school, but a weekly board, not one of those crazy places where people don't see their offspring any more than four times a year, I mean what the fuck is up with that? Why bother having children at all if you're going to ship them to an educational prison. What's that ma? Boarding school is character building. Well you must be right, after all the character they built rendered me half cracked. Oh not that kind of character, that wasn't what you were aiming for? Oh, I see.
FAIL!
ANYHOO
On occasion, when the time is right- it should be stormy outside. There should be howling winds and lashing rain, there should be a fire, or at the very least turn the central heating right up- I like to pull the curtains, fling some ice into a glass, crack open a bottle of baileys, slice some carrots into strips, add some humus, get into my most comfiest of jammies, grab Puddy and position myself in front of my computer... and watch cartoons.
Yep, cartoons.
Not Tom and Jerry cartoons, cartoons like Spawn, Earthworm Jim and Aeon Flux and X men. Yes folks, in my darkest and cheeriest hours I am nothing more than a filthy nerd. A mildly drunken filthy nerd, but a nerd none the less.
This habit of mine confuses the life out of the paramour, but the paramour plays X-box which confuses the life out of me, so we have reached a peaceful bridge.
Baileys, cartoons, cat, heat, try it, you cannot but enjoy it.
That you probably don't bother mentioning to chumlies, lest they make the L sign at you?
Hum? Fess up.