Image by cuckove via FlickrFantasmagorical Friday to you, dear Reader,
By the way, I say 'reader', I hope there is more than one of you. Maybe you could comment, so that I don't feel alone in the 'ether'. Humans or aliens, illegal or otherwise, can contact me. I am an 'equal opportunities' blogging 'grumpy ol' git', so your thoughts will be treated with the respect and consideration you have come to expect from me.
Anyway, I have a couple of things to tell you. Firstly, what about this snow and ice. I feel like 'Nanook of the North'. If I wanted to skate and slip on my ass, I would go to the ice-rink. I don't want to encounter it on my doorstep. Thing is, though, I had to get the car out today and go to my daughter's for help, after a series of cock-ups on the technical front. You see, yesterday my house phone went on the blink again. First sign of it was the blinking burglar alarm went off, when I was having my soup at lunch. I spilled half of the scalding liquid on my lap and jumped out of my chair. I nearly had a 'wikileak'! When I checked the alarm box and that my 'family jewels' were still intact, I saw a little symbol of a phone with a line through it.
Any road, that crisis is now over and my mind is returning to my forthcoming 'blind date'. I have been wondering what she might look like and the thought occurred to me that she might be a lot taller than I am. You see, I might tell tall stories sometimes, but the truth is that I am shortish in the vertical direction. I am, of course, beautifully formed, but need to bring a stepladder at all times, for any romantic emergencies. I don't imagine it will be a problem, as my matinee idol looks and peerless charm always win the ladies over, but I wouldn't want communication with my lady friend to involve a loud-hailer.
I am, I know, in great company, as regards the short stature as a man, accompanied by a taller lady. What about Sarkozy and Carla Bruni, Tom Cruise and Katy, Dudley Moore and tall blondes, and, of course, Berlusconi and whoever it happens to be at the time! (My nervy lawyer, who seems to have bitten his nails down to the quick, asks me to point out that these men are not short, it's just the camera angle, air brushing and very tall ladies, who gravitate towards their charisma! That should cover it, don't you think?) At any rate, I don't have a 'Napoleon' complex or any other sort of complex. I'm more simple than complex-no comments, please. I mean I'm straight up and down, I just don't go up as much as some! The Prime Minister seems to think it's a laughing matter, having a go at the Speaker of the house. Well, if Bercow is not 'Happy', I'm 'Grumpy' and Mr Cameron is definitely 'Dopey'!
So, you see, I have worked out a cunning plan for the date. I will hire a wheelchair and stick it in the boot. If I arrive at the date and her head is literally in the clouds, I will hop in the wheelchair and tell her I had an unfortunate fall on the ice and have bruised my coxics or whatever. We'll be the same height sitting down and I'll crack on I'm 6 foot tall in my stocking soles. What do you think? Anyway, got to get on and dig out my mobile phone charger, so that I can book the restaurant for my date. Wonder if they have disabled access? Wish me luck!
Yours short in stature, but with my head in the clouds
The blogging Gogfather!