"Can I use your dictaphone ?"
"No - you can use your finger like everyone else". It's an old Bernard Manning joke I know, but I thought it's the best way to start this one - keeping in the same lower body region feel as yesterdays blog. And what better way to start today's drivel then to change the subject completely - This year will be "The Year Of The Tie Pin", or tie clasp to be exact. My father used to wear them many years ago. He did have some nice mother-of-pearl ones. So the next time you see me in my zoot suit, and inappropriate tie, it'll be pinned down with a good old-fashioned tie clasp.
I better let you in on a secret. Everything you're reading is being transcribed back from the aforementioned dictaphone . I was on a long car trip this morning, (and, conversely, this afternoon as well :) ), and pulled into a service station before I'd p***ed my pants. (Damn, I made a mental note not to go anywhere near that subject. In fact, I swore to myself yesterday that there is no way I could possibly, even accidentally, get onto the subject of pants p***ing. Such is the will of the flowing text, that even I can't control what happens next!) There I was in the car. Chatting to myself, smiling away, trusty dictaphone in my hand........enduring image, eh? Actually, it's a 'microcassette-corder' according to what is printed on the front of it. Anyway, it records stuff when you speak into it. And this is what I said:
".....the biggest thing so far today is that I've pulled into a service station for....er....a cup of coffee, on an early morning ride 'up North' as they say. And there was a guy behind the counter in one of those Costa Rican Colombian La De Da coffee places ........I could have went to MacDonalds and had the usual slop burn my lips and staggered out going 'Why did I buy that again?'. But I thought - no,no,no, I'll have a cappucino...y'know...multi-latto-twin-cylinder-cam-shafted-fuel-injected large - and it was not in a polystyrene cup. It was in an actual porcelain thing, so there was a bit of taste to it. And I had one of them. And then I felt like for some reason, I felt like saying to him "......and have one yerself, mate". Ha ha ha. Maybe people do. Maybe that's why these guys are so strung out. They're not students y'know. They're not people who are desperate for money and are scrounging around or anything. They're actually just bloody coffee addicts y'know. And everytime someone comes along with a "....and have one yerself, mate", y'know he nips out the back and crushes down a few grains and snorts a few lines of Colombian. I don't know. I just think he's got the wrong idea about it."
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