Noise needed

So, Turdwalker has returned to his nest in the west leaving a trail of wreckage behind; having brought destruction to the wallpaper, the fireplace and my favourite bootlaces. Yes, it is an odd man who has a fav' set of laces for his boots. You've all been reading this long enough to know I'm insane? The house is quiet, I am sober. It's uncanny. Been out to shop, bought groceries, a pub lunch, a coffee and a fat newspaper and that were my day. Having said that, it's an unusual thing to be out and about on a Saturday in town; shift working usually precludes it, and even when I'm not working, there's normally something specific to do. So things like the religious zealots banging out their hellfire and brimstone message, the dodgy Arab looking woman selling balloons; all these Saturday classics are things that have passed me by for the longest time. All I needed was to be in another town and have Nutty Ken stomping up and down, immaculately dressed and shouting at people and it'd have been a total time warp (wonder if he's still even alive).