Gucci

Got a text this moring from Granty boy, dad's prodigal number two son, not bioligcally perhaps, but the engineering son that he didnt have:

He describes Grant as his last and best apprentice, a genuis and Im perhaps a little jealous that despite staying at home with father for the first seventeen years he taught me plums mechanically other than changing a wheel and making the tea. Mostly making the tea, I do however make a cracking cuppa but I feel obligated that if you ask me for a brew, that I make a short intake of breath and make ooooohhhh, tututututututututututttttt, noises to indicate that it will be very expensive.

Grant is however, on my top ten list of genuinely nice people and has just landed himself a nice job that involves three months of the year in California. He is arguably top of his field in electronic engineering and Im sure that he counts binary digits in his sleep. Well done son. I dont know exactly what he does day to day, but I once saw a picture on his phone of a power supply unit that was most likely to have the ability to start global warfare.

I digress, Granty Boys message reads:

Portugal!!! Good Job I read your journal AFTER I go around to take the old geezer to Machine Mart this morning. What's he doing there? Jetsetter! G

I think later that this is a little ironic that Grant who is all things electronic, didnt just phone him. Having a day off from high level electonics were we son.

It reminds me of the urban myth that before going into space the Americans developed the special space pen that can write just about anywhere and the Russians just used a pencil. Grant in this case is American and I am Russian, except the space pen is a great invention that has sold millions at a great profit and you can pick me up for 12pence in your local newsagent.

I have man cold today, Im freezing and the little hand warmers we got in our winter warmer pack doesnt work very well. Im grumpy and I have even cancelled on John coming around tonight. So, this evening. Im planning to drive home with the heating on full blast, the heated front seat on and then Im going to sulk in man flu-ness for the rest of the night. I have obviously got the cold from those pesky kids.

However, on the way home I make a rash descision to stop in at the gym as this is my regular gym evening and see if I can work off the cold with an endorphin rush.

I do a quick half and hour and decide thats enough for one day, I see "bodys a temple" in the changing room and he leaves his shower gell in the shower, not surprisingly its Guccci. Of course its Gucci, that goes with the rest of the image doesnt it. I have Vosene with added nit protection.

Now picture this, have you ever wondered why an average looking chick always goes out with an ugly or fat pal, exactly, its to make them look more attractive. So normally, I would never be seen anywhere near "bodys a temple" as I would look inferior. However, today I deliberately take the locker next to him and I look surgery enhanced compared to his monkeys toe. I consider it a small victory for the average non gucci man and I resist the tempation to tell him you can get a pump for that on the internet.

Being at the gym as a cure for cold works but only to a certain extent as when I leave I feel all wonky donky.

I nip downstairs to boots to get a sandwich and a bottle of water and feel particularly shakey, to the point where I nearly fall down the last flight of escalator which isnt switched on. For some reason walking down it is making my eyes feel all funny like a strobe effect and when I get to the bottom I could 100% swear that I seen a man with large orange platform shoes on. I wolf down the sandwich and head back up the stairs, I dont normally get vertigo but its one of the few occasions that I think that I should hold on just in case.

When I get home Eric and Kaye are here, as they have been out with Holly today and are getting ready for a road trip to Aberdeen tomorrow, they dont stay for dinner which is a shame as there is enough to go around.

Connie announces that she has arranged for the large man with the large van that took away our sofa to come around and give Abbie and I a massage which he does amongst his other items of work. Now to explain what Scott looks like, is easier if you image a white John Coffee out of the Green Mile. He seriously has the biggest hands I have ever seen and when he puts them against Abbies face its like that scene from Alien.

Feeling a lot better by now, but will see what the morning brings.