It’s proving a slow news day amongst the halls and chambers of chez Strachan. Thus far, the only bulletins to share are the shaving off of my beard, eating breakfast and my use of a naughty word rhyming with duck upon realising I’d not charged my laptop overnight.
The laptop lack of power isn’t a big problem, other than meaning I’m having to write this passage with the device balanced on the arm of the sofa, which allows far easier access to the electric socket.
Admittedly, not a huge issue, other than the inconvenience of my computer rocking from side to side while I type. Meanwhile, both my wrists are endeavouring to stop it tumbling floor bound, along with easing the risk of motion sickness.
To be forensically accurate, the cursing yours truly utilised on finding an uncharged laptop wasn’t a naughty word rhyming with duck. They were naughty words rhyming with ducking bell. Pedantry on the part of the author, but I like my narratives to be truthful…… Well, apart from the fictional ones which are absolutely riddled with porkies!
Shaving my beard off was a spontaneous task undertaken after my waking thought instructed “Do you know what, Gary, I think you should shave your beard off.”…… As I oft act on these waking impulses, I’m just relieved my inaugural notion wasn’t enrolling for lion taming lessons.
Like many men (and occasionally women), being shorn of facial hair takes ten years off my appearance. Or so I’m told….. However, that opinion comes courtesy of my mum, who openly opines I look a “Right scruffy bleeder!” with a beard. Consequently, I’d venture there’s an agenda behind the compliment, as such taking the quote with a pinch of salt.
My breakfast was my usual marmite on toast washed down with orange juice. GJ Strachan’s amour du petit dejeuner, putting a spring in my step and ready to face whatever confronts me on that day.
Some may deem that I’m easily pleased if Vegemite and toasted bread can impart that level of brio into my existence. An accusation that may, or may not, hold water but not one which overly worries me. After all, as the UK Cheesecake Marketing Board oft posit, life is all about personal choice and cheesecake; although not necessarily in that order.
I’m also fond of a Full English breakfast, but dietary and time factors mean sausage, bacon, eggs, beans, mushrooms, tomatoes and hash browns are infrequent visitors at the Strachan dining table…… Or that’s what I tell my cardiologist, anyhow.
Later today, I intend to visit my mum to check she’s coping ok without her eldest offspring’s usual presence. My lack of residence over in the south west of Leeds consequential of housesitting my once marital home.
As an aside, amongst the seemingly ever-growing advertisements on my Facebook timeline, I’ve just witnessed a thought-provoking sales pitch. Marketing by a company who’re affording its customers the opportunity to purchase underwear emblazoned with the customer faces.
A product which is possibly the tackiest thing I’ve ever seen. And as a guy who once purchasing a set of ‘Carry On’ mugs from Price-Drop TV, GJ Strachan knows plenty about tacky, I can tell you!
Witnessing this tat, I questioned what level of hubris would lead to an individual yearning to procure undies on which their genitals/ass were covered by a depiction of their face.
Eventually concluding this nonsense gave an interesting new slant to the oft utilised disparaging phrase dickhead.
