Chris Flockton's MP3 Podcast Thingies

I miss hanging up. You know, slamming down the phone. Not that I was ever in the habit of doing it very often, but it was always nice to have the option.

I've taken to worrying. About all manner of things. It's something to do, right? It's become almost like a hobby - just more stressful.

The businessman did a double take. Surely he must be seeing things. He peered out the small window from his first class seat into the half-light of dusk.

It's Fashion Week in New York. Seven days when everyone who live, works, or even vacations in Manhattan, is required to don their very best haute coture duds...

I'm flying the flag. I hoist it into position with a casual flick of the wrist. This is not some patriotic display. I'm not trying to make a point.

It’s morning in the pseudo-countryside. The weekend, now only a pleasant memory, gives way to the bleak reality of the work week.

I’m Googling myself. Sounds a little self-indulgent, doesn’t it? But I’m still doing it.

I’m out of touch. I haven’t got a clue. I’m clueless. Sans clue.

OK, this is serious. There’s an epidemic sweeping the United Kingdom. The rest of Europe is closing its borders.

I’m not having a good day. You know there are certain things in life that you just take for granted. You just assume they are one way, and not the other.

I’m dating Lindsay Lohan. In my mind. We’ve been in several car crashes together. We’re very close.

I can’t remember which way is hot. In the shower. I used to know this, of course, and probably I still do.

I see a wanted poster. You know, like the ones in the wild west. It reads, “Wanted Dead or Alive.”

My eyebrows are getting the better of me. When did this start to happen?