At times it really can be precious to take stock of all of your bits and pieces and just try to make sense of this whacky journey we call “Life”.

It was Bill Hicks of course, who famously said ‘Life is like a ride at an amusement park’. Me, I’m more of the opinion that life’s a rail replacement bus service to Slough. Only the book you’re reading’s all about your poor life choices, the seats are wet, and the driver’s drinking Scotch & cough syrup.

I had one of these invaluable chances to take stock the other day as all of my possessions were being hurled at me from out of my bedroom window. The neighbours are never in when you need some milk or bail money… But they’re sure as heck bloody gawping at their porches when ‘ol Roy’s being torn to shit on the fucking prestige lawn he spent a decade blossoming.

Anyway, of all of these forgotten treasures to hit me in the face, none concussed me more than a DVD. I know! A fucking what?!

Let me explain. Before we streamed everything ‘online’ in our ‘homes’ with our precious little ‘families’, we actually used to watch things on good old fashioned, indestructible discs. ‘But Roy, how did it buffer?’ – It didn’t have to, little one. It simply ran on love.

As luck would have it, that night I was staying at my mate Danger Dan’s house… Who believe it or not had seven legitimately and lawfully purchased DVD players in his otherwise very homely opiate shanty.

Anyway, the one, singular working possession I had left turned out to be a Seinfeld DVD! I know, what a corker! Needless to say, I was so determined to watch the thing, I didn’t even want to think about what a sad metaphor that may have been.

The Northern Irishman gently masturbating on Dan’s sofa wanted to continue watching some sort of Japanese snuff film… Or it might have been Marley & Me, it was very cloudy and hard to tell. I took some deep breaths, as instructed by my therapist in times where I feel quick to anger and before you know it, I felt lighter than air.

Then came the trademark slap bass and perfectly crafted gags about dating and laundry. And… I don’t know if it was because I felt like I was on a cloud, but those gags just seemed to ring true. You’re bloody right Jerry, what is the deal with tipping your waitress?

This rush of supreme euphoria, I can only attribute to one thing: company. Such is the mark of a timeless television show, that even with age… Escaping what may otherwise be a painfully sobering existence, amongst the company of Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer I really felt like I had not just friends, but dare I say, my own little family again.

So Claire, you may have taken the children, the house, and everything in it but you didn’t get my season one Seinfeld DVD with special features, did you? So take away all you want, you’ll never take away the laughter.

Hahaha Hahaha Hahaha!!!!