It's the end of the world.

I arrived home to a very unhappy house tonight.

    What could be wrong I wondered as the sounds of wailing and gnashing of teeth greeted my arrival. Had WW3 broken out on my way home? Had Justin Beeber (or whatever his name is) finally married leaving my daughter on the shelf for eternity? Had my wife's favourite soap been taken off-air mid-season?

    No, it was worse, much worse and apparently the worstest single event ever to have stricken the Lawrence household and the planet. I can't stop long lest one of the brood firebombs my computer out of sheer spite. I'm going to lock it up and seal the room.

    The Sky (digital) box has broken, and they can't replace it until next Tuesday.

   Horrors!!!!!!! What is to become of us all?