Recently I've been looking out into my garden and realising that perhaps doing in the rain wasn't such a good idea after all. Usually you might say that people "mow" the lawn. Occasionally one man and his dog though I've never quite got what the dog did in that little relationship... and what does Noah need with 500 hammers?
Anyway, to say that I had mown the lawn might be somewhat of an understatement. The phrase one might look for when describing the current state of my garden might be that I have pretty much massacred the grass. No living thing was spared the wrath of my Lawnmower as I churned up mud, grass and nearly bits of slide in my crusade against the evils of my backyard which now looks like its been used as a mud wrestling arena for that guy with the wheelbarrow...
Tuesday was somewhat of an eventful day. I have recently changed onto a Virgin Mobile deal and as such I wanted to get my PAC code from T-mobile to Virgin ASAP. After 5 minutes of frankly torture at the hands of Richard Branson's crap choice in phone music I finally got through to someone. (The 1 button to change music does not work after, in a fit of near suicidalness [if thats a word] I decided to mash it at the same pace a person who might be have a cardiac arrest.) The person then said they couldn't help me because I wasn't "the account holder" FML. "Okay I'll just go get my dad...*hang up*"
After a few seconds deliberation, I decided to ring up again.
5 minutes of crap Jazz music later I finally got through to someone and had the problem solved in less than a minute. Well when I say "I" I actually mean "Nigel Legg" if you catch my drift. "Hello my name is Nigel Legg and I'd like to get my son's PAC number sorted out... Yes Yes the whole family's getting theirs sorted out you see. It's me, my err Son and my Mu... Wife yesss. Ahh you see? We talk on similar wavelengths"
Anyway yes that was that and I should be back on my original number on the 18th :D
I'm not saying I advocate lying to Virgin and Richard Branson with his slick smile and blond locks. I'm saying that pretending your mother is your wife is an image I might need to have therapy about later in my life.
I have another invention for Dragons Den. It's an FML key on the keyboard. This is because I swear people these days seem to be using the acronym way more than the letter "x" or "z".
Infact we could get rid of "z" and replace it with FML. It might just work. Or as a more positive initiative replace the FML key with a smiley face hich might make Emo's think of heir lives in a more positive manner AND STOP FILLING UP MY NEWS FEED WITH YOUR SENSELESS MOANING.
Jeez. You make Bella look like a reasonably happy person.
I have decided that I might start to enjoy post marital bliss. That is, if anyone is crazy enough to want to put up with me for the rest of my life.
I think I should just stick with the hope of a "care in the community scheme" going horribly out of control.
With this in mind I have already decided that, once married I will probably eat my way into oblivion.
So today Dragons I bring before you a device that some of you might find attractive when you one day decide to give up and impersonate Eric Pickles.
I call it the Fat Roller; They are professionally trained men (and women) who will roll you wherever you need to go. You will never have to walk anywhere again. AND you can spend the whole trip lying down. Their fee will include life insurance just in case you roll back on top of them. Job done.
That's where I'll leave you tonight Ladies and Gentlewomen.
Adam xx
...I'd give my right arm to be ambidextrous.
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