For many years me and a certain blue and white striped rugby shirt were inseparable. Yesterday I threatened the return of my favourite jumper. Disaster – I can’t find the thing anywhere. The last time I can remember wearing it was on a particularly memorable booze up in Folkestone where it attracted the unwanted advances of a rather fit bird. It’s possible that I chucked the thing out, but I doubt it somehow. It’s my favourite jummy, even if I haven’t worn it for years.
During my search for it I found two other jumpers from the same era, two pairs of jeans (jeans!! – I haven’t worn jeans for over ten years!), five sets of pyjamas I never knew I had, and more pairs of shorts than I could count (i.e. over seven). I found half a dozen sets of flashing luminous rabbit ears, and I unearthed
I loved that jumper. I wonder what happened to it? I might just have to get a new one, but ebay has let me down, having nothing remotely similar for sale.
“My Boy TM ” ‘s car had a flat battery, so could he jump start from my car? Of course he could. Whilst trying to get out of the house, the door bounced back and hit me full in the face. Just where I’d had that tooth out. Oh, it did hurt. And carried on hurting all day.
So I have made a new house rule. Something rather obvious, really. Doors in the house must be openable. I couldn’t believe the amount of rubbish we had blocking up all the doors. I filled two bin bags of clutter. If anything valuable has gone well, quite frankly, I don’t care.
There was a minor hold up in the jump starting whilst we struggled to get the bonnet of my car open, and I did wonder if my car would start afterwards, but in the end all was well. Thank heavens!
I left home rather earlier than usual on a late shift to have a look at DVD players. The staff in Curry’s ignored me totally. I gave them fifteen minutes then walked out. Pissy World weren’t much better. But “Dave” in Comet was quite helpful. I forgot to ask about multi-region DVD players though. I’ll go back tomorrow – if they don’t have multi-region ones I’ll go to Tottenham Court Road. They will have.
Earlier in the week the burning issue at work was chicken sushi. Yes – I know – sushi isn’t chicken, it’s fish. I thought that too, but Wikipedia says that sushi is traditionally (but not exclusively) fish. Before I joined the vocal majority in declaring chicken sushi to be lame, I thought I’d better try the stuff.
I have tasted worse. If any of my loyal readers are tempted by the thought off chicken sushi, you can buy it in Tesco for two quid. *You* can buy it. I won’t be doing so again…