Thought for the day

A couple of weekends ago while prostrate on a friend's sofa after an evening of fillums in our eyes and copious amounts of wine down our throats an idea occurred to me that struck me as so important and profound that I must record it somehow at all costs. I had no pen and paper to hand so, painful as it was, made myself vertical, rummaged through my rucksack, found my mobile phone and sent myself a text message. I couldn't possibly write out the idea in its entirety but I knew that if I recorded one particular phrase it would be sufficient to recall this immense concept at a later time.

With a head full of booze and fatigue I managed with some difficulty to key in this phrase of utmost significance. I read and reread the message to ensure that the predictive text hadn't muddled this most important of messages and then I hit the "send" button. A second later my phone beeped reassuringly and I collapsed back on the sofa safe in the knowledge that the message, the prompt to myself that would trigger recollection of this most profound of ideas was tucked away in my mobile's memory.

I awoke the next morning without a hangover and feeling much better than I had any right to. I stretched, I yawned, I blinked, I contemplated making a cup of coffee, and then I remembered that in my drunken stupor the night before I had experienced something of an epiphany, a realisation that made sense of this whole damn palaver we call life. But what was it? I don't know. But... the phone: I had sent myself a reminder. The key was in my phone, a short phrase that would bring the whole damn revelation back to me. I rummaged once more in my bag for my phone, switched it on and saw the little envelope icon that signified receipt of a new message. I pressed to select the message and read what could be the single most important discovery of my life:

"There are too many ideas in my leg."

No, I still have no fucking idea what it could possibly mean.