Friday, July 06, 2007

Benecol and floor cleaner

OH, the irony of it! There I am sitting with the Prince of Darkness on a particularly rain-lashed evening outside The Yard when the evil one lets out an undignified yelp.
Now normally the only noises you hear from the Prince are gulps, gurgles and splutters as he sinks his Amstels and wheezes and sucks as he puffs gratefully on a ciggie... and a nearby virgin, should one become available.
Showing just the right degree of fake concern I inquire: "What's up with you, mate?"
"I don't really know," he says, "it happens now and again. I suppose I should see the doctor about it. I turn my neck and I get a shooting pain. Doesn't help with the driving either."
This he announces as he considers next week's daunting journey in a hire car to Bordeaux with the family. He doesn't want to hand over the driving reins because last year his Missus spent most of the time driving through the French countryside on the wrong side of the road.
Hopefully, the problem will be sorted out, but the Prince with a neck injury... is that a case of the biter bit?

The first signs of age, and too many prolonged excursions on the razz, are beginning to take their toll I fear. I am becoming a bit too forgetful for my own liking, and this can cause dire consequences on occasion.
Already I have woken in the morning to find the pepper in the fridge and the Milk in the cupboard, not to mention my keys in the bin. But the other morning it all went a bit too far.
Stretching my arms wide and yawning in the manner of Simon Pegg's character in Shaun of the Dead, I dragged myself, eyes half closed to the kitchen.
I put the kettle on, went into the fridge and removed one of those Benecol yoghurt drinks which are supposed to help lower your cholesterol - pretty important in my case, with a blood test due at the docs on Monday.
While the kettle boiled I paid a quick visit to the loo, then returned to pour hot water over the tea bag in my cup, adding milk to just the required amount.
Ah, now for the Benecol. I picked up the little bottle, shook it violently... and decorated both myself and the kitchen in a sticky, yoghurty mess. I'd forgotten that I had opened it when I first removed it from the fridge.
The men in the white coats aren't far away...

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