I've got to ding a ling long my dang a long ling long

So here’s the deal. I’m back in London. I’ve picked up my bicycle from the underground car park, where it had been sitting for the last 6 months. I felt a bit like Michael Caine, picking up my sports car from storage after getting out of jail. Except he didn’t have flat tyres. Even worse than being back in Hammersmith, and sneaking into work unnoticed, is the fact that I am going back to work. I think I’ll start back on Friday afternoon, as we’re having our summer party. I’ll be the one in the bad kung-fu movie costume.

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