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Saturday, September 25, 2004

I'm back in Shotley Gate, hurrah! And there's a woman in the next room eating a bagel. But hey, if she can comment on my blog at 6:20am when I'm asleep three feet away, I can write a blog post about her while she's sitting nearby with her hands on my comestibles.

I spent a relaxing 24 hours in Brighton, doing my best not to become an integral part of 'Operation Otter', which sounds like a relative of Secret Squirrel, but is in fact the security operation surrounding next week's Labour party conference. The police are cordoning off roads at one end of town, while the council are doing their bit by carrying out major roadworks at the other. In the middle they're stopping anyone with a kiss-me-quick hat and searching for explosives. Those otters don't stand a chance.

I also proved that I'm on the ball by getting out to my car before 9am to place a visitors parking permit on the dashboard for the day. They're like lottery scratchcards - they cost a pound each, you scratch off a few little boxes, and you get nothing in return for your money. So having checked the day and date a dozen times to ensure accuracy, I carefully scratched off 'Friday'... then '24th'... then 'August'... then '2004', and looked back with satisfaction on a job well done. Before realising it was September. It was the sunny weather which confused me. But hey, what's a pound to someone of my means. One less McFlurry, that's what. Dammit.

Anyhoo, the highlight of the day was spending two hours playing Playstation II with Lisa's 5 year old nephew. I randomly pressed buttons, pretended I knew what I was doing, and when I was instructed to take out the enemy soldiers ahead to clear a path to freedom, I chose not to mention that I wasn't entirely sure how to fire my gun. But I think I got away with it, and I found a hidden talent for hoverboarding which I never knew I had. Though I still didn't quite understand the game where you have to free the fat hamsters by swinging a rabbit around on a chain until it gets stuck in a light socket. Do the RSPCA know about this?

But I successfully dragged myself away from the video games and escorted Lisa back to Suffolk, where she chose to declare a love for the 1970s kids show 'Pipkins', and displayed an incredible talent for saying the word "Pig" in a Birmingham accent. I'll be making that available for download just as soon as I can hide a microphone in an onion bagel.