To use an asinine phrase of which Ed would almost certainly disapprove, listening to a new series of his radio show is like finally putting on a pair of comfy old slippers at the end of the day.
No comfort for Ed, however, as our irascible protagonist must leave his rude shepherd's hut in the wilderness and return to rude London in search of work and possibly a bunk up with his old flame Maggie (though hopefully not also with the other chap involved in their polyamorous uncertainty).
(It occurs to your faithful blogger at this point that perhaps some small explanation is in order. Ed is a writer. He had one great success with the towering work of literature that was "Who Would Fardels Bear?", and utterly failed to repeat it. Instead he has slaved away at the coalface of commercial writing, in the form of episodes of Tenko, the occasional spot of teaching, but mostly ghostwriting pointless books for pointless celebrities about pointless topics. This hasn't been entirely profitable.
Which means that Ed lurches about from disaster to catastrophe, with a host of tricky little ways to avoiding spending the tiny fragments of residuals he receives. This week, that involves a collection of wooden spoons for acquiring free meals in pubs, sleeping on the night tube, and a shed. All grist for the mill of creative endeavour.)
Right, that should be you more or less up to date.
Honestly though, this is series 13. By now, odds are good you've listened to at least some of it. (Just in case you haven't, and you're now wildly desperate for more, there are previous series available.)
As always, Ed is delightfully miserable, and incapable of showing kindness (except to Elgar) in his daily dealings with the uneducated masses. Everyone you expect to be here makes a reappearance, and Ed's rants against everyone and everything (with a special hatred for the British Transport Police) once again take centre stage, being both amusingly mean and unexpectedly insightful.
If you're a fan, you really don't need any encouragement from me. If you're not a fan, well, there's probably no saving you, you uncultured swine.