Car crimes
Lorraine took me shopping to a hardware store in her car today. We paused first at the garage and added air to tyres, L changed her oil and bought petrol. After scoring paint tins we drove to Brighton Marina to get in the queue for the car wash. It was after being in this queue for about twenty minutes the car remembered it was a diesel car and quickly died. Luckily we were next to a carpark and so it could pushed to safety.
Only one thing for it: eat moules and frites and drink beer, after which L marginally less tetchy when I mentioned she'd murdered Bexy (the name of her car). Then a man came with a Rod Steward circa 1972 haircut and winched up the dead car to the back of his lorry.
We walked back, me carrying my paint tins, along the seafront for half an hour. L punched me in a businesslike manner after I mentioned that there was nothing like a lift to the hardware store. A beautiful sunset though and hundreds of seagulls decorating the sky.
Home, and loafed on my gold sofa for a bit, before we suck out again to score Chinese duck pancakes, and then home again to watch the Bourne Supremacy, which although not my usual bag, was actually rather exciting.
Spoke to the Tobster who is over for a flying week's visit soon, which is excellent.
Lorraine took me shopping to a hardware store in her car today. We paused first at the garage and added air to tyres, L changed her oil and bought petrol. After scoring paint tins we drove to Brighton Marina to get in the queue for the car wash. It was after being in this queue for about twenty minutes the car remembered it was a diesel car and quickly died. Luckily we were next to a carpark and so it could pushed to safety.
Only one thing for it: eat moules and frites and drink beer, after which L marginally less tetchy when I mentioned she'd murdered Bexy (the name of her car). Then a man came with a Rod Steward circa 1972 haircut and winched up the dead car to the back of his lorry.
We walked back, me carrying my paint tins, along the seafront for half an hour. L punched me in a businesslike manner after I mentioned that there was nothing like a lift to the hardware store. A beautiful sunset though and hundreds of seagulls decorating the sky.
Home, and loafed on my gold sofa for a bit, before we suck out again to score Chinese duck pancakes, and then home again to watch the Bourne Supremacy, which although not my usual bag, was actually rather exciting.
Spoke to the Tobster who is over for a flying week's visit soon, which is excellent.
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