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Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Back in March, whilst living it up in Bristol with a couple of gorgeous young models and a horny old stag, I took this photo at the dockside...

I think the lady in grey was holding up a placard saying 'Eat Something!'. But if you're wondering how that photo might have looked if I'd been standing with my legs apart in a pair of leather trousers, here's your answer...

That's a page from The Bristol Magazine, a publication which sounds like it ought to be on the top shelf, but is actually given away for free in the west country. But only to rich people. According to their website, "The Bristol Magazine is professionally delivered to properties valued above £275,000", providing "comprehensive coverage" of "affluent residential areas". So it's officially scum-free and aimed at successful young professionals like myself. Although I'm currently living in a council flat and struggling to pay the bills.

Obviously I'm no stranger to receiving dodgy magazines through the post, usually in plain packaging, but yesterday evening I returned home from work to find a parcel containing eight pages of fashion, plus three (count them) birthday presents from a mystery admirer. Although it wasn't a mystery once I'd read the note inside.

They actually came from my old pal, BS6, with whom I watched that fashion shoot in the spring. It transpires that far from being the Primark special I'd taken it for, the outfit being worn by that model is a Vivienne Westwood Anglomania Amarylis dress, which retails for £485. The heart-shaped bag is £220. Which makes the £85 shoes seem like a bargain.

I'm particularly pleased with that gift, because I now know what to get Lisa for her birthday. I'll buy her a magazine.

But as for me, I've been truly humbled. I'm not sure if BS6 has come into some money, but he's exceeded all previous levels of generosity by buying me this...

It's a Lotus Evora 08 in metallic green, and it's the sports car of my dreams. Unfortunately it's only three inches long. But having previously thought I couldn't afford to have a mid-life crisis, I can now celebrate my 40th by driving Lisa around the bend with a die-cast Matchbox car.

In addition to that, I received a pack of Peppa Pig tissues, just in case I want to regress back to childhood (or wipe my face after some birthday cake), plus a genuine, bona fide, hand crafted, collectible plectrum used by the axe-wielding guitar gods of Trivium, an American thrash metal band who list among their influences the likes of Hellhammer, Cannibal Corpse, Obituary and Death. All of which make the name 'Trivium' sound upbeat.

There's no telling how BS6 came by such an item (although there's a lot of pick-pocketing in Bristol), and until someone invents a chocolate bar that cures arthritis, my chances of using it are slim, but nevertheless I'll treasure that plectrum. It goes nicely with my Bloody Nightmare guitar. Which I'm now too crippled to play.

But despite my dodgy fingers and advancing years, I'm actually pretty lucky. I might be too knackered to leave the flat, but I have artists in Milton Keynes and musicians in Bristol willing to send me stuff in the post. I even had a text message tonight from two Alan Partridge fans, offering to meet me at the marina to discuss life, love and the fracking hell of Balcombe. Unfortunately I was being jumped on by a girl in a dinosaur mask at the time. I must tell Lisa to stop that.

Anyhoo, I'd just like to say a big thank you to BS6 for his thoughtfulness. The man's an inspiration, and if I lived a hundred miles closer to Bristol, I'd take him out for a beer. Not that I drink beer, or go out. But the intention's definitely there.