I hated Americans without ever meeting one. I hated dogs without ever owning one. I detested Volkswagen Beetles without ever driving one. I detested unemployed people with neck tattoos without ever knowing one.
On Monday I attended a food course and was seated next to a guy from Chicago who was here for a year on an exchange programme. I was disappointed. Not once did he brag, show off or act like the fuck wits we are forced to endure so often on television. He was suave, funny, intelligent and a hell of a chef. We have exchanged numbers and we are going to meet up midweek for a few beers.
My girlfriend is ill so I have had to walk, feed and amuse her small pooch which up to now has just been background noise as far as I am concerned. To my delight I have discovered that a wagging tail, a cocked head and a welcoming little canine jig in constant circles as I arrive has grown on me. He is sitting beside me right now with his head on my feet.
Being on a limited budget dictates which mode of transport I get to drive. The for sale cards in my local supermarket threw up a limited choice after my scooter decided to die in the middle of a rainstorm on Friday night. I left it writhing in agony in a puddle at the side of the road where it fell. I never looked back. £1,480 got me a rather retro looking vee-dub, all be it somewhat rusty and with a musty smell which reminds me of mushroom soup. I love it. I feel like a kid again and people wave to me from the cramped confines of their own Beetles. So cool!
I'm still working on the neck tattoo thing though, but so far the prognosis isn't looking good.
The pooch sounds delightful but even the smallest dogs poo and you're meant to scoop it up - which I always think is a bit of a downer.
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