Our Man would like to say it's not every day that he MAKES CONTACT with the other side, but it wouldn't be the first. You never forget your first. That would be a year and a half ago when esteemed psychic shyster Uri Geller tried to flog Our Man a magic bracelet that would channel all the psychic power from Uri's Des Res Pyramid in deepest Darkest Berkshire right into Our Man's garden bunker in lil' ol' Abiko-shi.
Our Man didn't take Spoonbender-san up on the kind offer (with the decline in the value of the pound, it only would have set Our Man back by less than a 100 quid or so), but Our Mother in Law promptly got one of his mini-lava lamps of the soul (she didn't say how much the bastard gouged from her) but she has come round to the idea that the revolving light show isn't psychic magic, but in fact battery-operated fraud.
The Magic Psychic Lamp-o-Rama now is only used when, in the dead of night, she needs to go for a pee. Guess this is what Uri would refer to as "psychic flow".
But Our Man digresses. So, this time Uri Geller sent him a New Year's Day postcard (although oddly five days late, you'd think psychics would if anything be early rather than after the event).
Our Man hasn't decoded the card and doesn't have the heart to give it to Mildred and the girls in the typing pool to work on, but he provides it here for your psychic betterment.