Yes, it's that time of year again - all my playmates disappear.
The Weeble has flown home, and The Choirboy. Stroppy Tom and family. Even the dratted Madame X.
The Film Guy is taking a rather more exotic break for a couple of weeks in Burma.
The Bengali mentioned something about 'colonic irrigation', at which point I stopped listening to his holiday plans.
The Chairman is still around, but might as well not be, since he is perpetually uncontactable and disappears for weeks or months at a time.
The Poet is (for once) still around, but rendered hors de combat by acute cashflow difficulties.
Dr Manhattan is still around, but dealing poorly with the cold (feeble Floridians!); he claims that he has only one pair of longjohns, and is thus confined to his apartment on wash days.
Ho hum.
It's going to be lonely this Christmas, lonely and cold.
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