I'll say one thing for posting 13 consecutive losing horse racing tips in one week - it gets you noticed. Yes, the sheer skill that it took to eventually pick a winner by backing the shortest priced favourite of the entire Cheltenham Festival has finally been recognised, and as of yesterday afternoon, I've been asked to write for a horse racing website (which I'm not naming, due to the fact that I haven't decided whether or not to accept, and I'm far too ravaged by disease and out of my head on over-the-counter drugs to make a sensible decision right now). The remuneration package on offer is interesting though. They've suggested a figure with quite a few noughts. And not a lot else. So they've obviously realised my true market value.

To be honest though, I think the offer's based more on the evidence of my horses page, and less on my ability as a tipster, so I should probably delete all of last week's posts and claim I was on holiday, before they discover the kind of person they're offering work to.

Anyhoo, two years ago today I was standing outside WHSmiths on Victoria Station, regretting my decision to wear a moleskin jacket, and wondering if an overpriced smoothie would warm me up, whilst a woman I'd never laid eyes on before was hiding in the toilets trying to come up with a plausible excuse to return to Brighton within the hour.

So I'd just like to say Happy Two-Years-Since-We-First-Met Anniversary to Lisa. I always knew it was worth you turning up.