Just passing Ilford on my train today and my mad commuter buddy went for a random walk, or was it random? As he passed me the train rocked a little, not a great deal just the normal rocking of a train but it was the cover he needed. He leapt at me, a crashing blow to my ear as his elbow thundered into my head. I realised that this was no mere stumble, it was an attack using the motion of the train as a cover. Unconvinced that my rebuilt wrists would take the forces involved in a full assault I slipped my hand out from my pocket and powered my elbow into his midriff using it as a lever to throw his mass over me and into the lap of a surprised woman.
He couldn’t mount another attack in public now and as he recovered and apologised I studied him for signs of his alter ego, I was just considering clawing the latex from his face when I realised this was a mere agent Mr(s) Smith would not have been so readily defeated. My thwarted foe walked down another car and was gone. If you think that this was just a case of a commuter stumble then explain why, having walked to the end of the car, he returned? There was no reason for this trip and I suggest that it was a targeted attack, when you read the Anita beware Mr(s) Smith is getting more aggressive in her defence of Dr Evil.
Just to keep me on my toes having read a healthy chunk of the excellent Zoo by James Patterson* there is a huge dog on the train. It might just be me but I think he looking at me strangely.
* Thanks Dave and Jo
You may be thinking that Mr(s) Smith has been quiet for a while, I had thought the same but today she slipped up and made herself known. I walked into the hotel and round to my room without seeing anything untoward but my room key would not work so I had to return to reception and get my card recoded which in itself is not unusual. As I was walking back towards my room I saw a very odd-looking character walking towards me and then it hit me, the person of indeterminable sex was Mr(s) Smith, was this why I couldn’t get in my room? Had he overridden the lock whilst searching my IPod for evidence of Dr Evils’s plans? A thorough check of the room revealed nothing, damn she is good!
I have developed an annoying knuckle lock on the right hand, probably down to the stresses induced through press ups, this is made more annoying by the pain that it causes lefty to crack it. It seems that to crack the errant knuckle necessitates that lefty takes an extremely uncomfortable load which leaves me in a quandary as to which ache is preferable. Since my wrists have demonstrated that the press ups are having an affect* I felt spurred to further effort and today managed 25 in the morning and 30 this evening, there will be another 20 minimum later, lets see what happens, either the pain will win or I will. The scar on righty is starting to play up as well and keeps demonstrating how good the blood flow is in the graft, it does this by springing a leak from time to time which is difficult for me to detect because I can’t feel anything so the first I know is when there is a good trickle of blood.
A discussion at work today reminded me of a story that I have recounted to many but will record here for prosperity. One of my jobs was as an Engineer in a dairy, now the thing in a dairy is that cream is a waste product all year but then during the festive period it becomes a premium product as demand matches supply. I was in the dairy over Christmas when there was an issue with one of our three cream tanks, the agitator shaft had come out of the lower bearing and needed replacing. Cream is kept moving in the tanks by a motorised shaft with a couple of blades on it, the motor is on the top of the tank and the bottom of the shaft is located in a very simple cup to keep it relatively true, this arrangement minimises risk to the product. Normally the tank will be no more than half full and the contents would be sent to waste but at Christmas the tank was full and waste was not an option. The solution that was hit upon was a certain Engineer stripping to boxer shorts and diving in, following the shaft to the bottom and lifting it back in, yes I was that Engineer. My cream tanks were two stories high and this really was a case of deep breath and use the shaft to guide you down, it’s a very quick task but the thought that I would drown in cream really did occur to me as pushed back up through the thick liquid, would they write ‘the cat that got too much cream’ on my headstone? Obviously I survived the experience, admittedly I smelt sour for some time after despite steaming hot showers and yes my skin was incredibly soft. If you’re wondering, swimming in a tank of warm silky cream is an experience that never leaves you and, I would venture, it’s probably one that could be marketed. For me the festive glut of packaged cream that arrives in the grocery store always brings the experience to mind and as shoppers fill their trolleys I have to smile.
Congratulations to Andre for getting himself onto Google streetview although I still think he could have worn shoes for the occasion. Finally I must say that I am looking forward to seeing the delightful Pilot Boat Inn in Bembridge on the IOW competing in the UK television series ‘three in a bed’ whilst this show only seems to confirm the fact that i don’t want to be in the B&B business I wish them well and love seeing the Island.
*The jury remains out on whether this is good or bad
I was going through some pictures with the worlds No.1 daughter this weekend and she enquired as to why I had taken a picture of a rather odd looking woman’s head. I looked at the picture and explained that it was actually a picture of a competing pub to the one that I was viewing and that when I had tried to take the picture this woman kept bobbing into the shot.
We debated whether it was a man or a woman and then it struck me, this was Mr(s) Smith. This picture was taken in March last year, before Anita had shown me Dr Evil’s ship I was on the watch list already. I was all set to apologise to Anita for blaming her publicly for introducing me to Mr(s) Smith’s kill list and then I thought some more . . .
Now there is some good to come of reading the great authors that I currently read, I know how these evil geniuses work, how they plant plot lines in the past only to revisit when your least expecting. Mr(s) Smith had been told to make herself known, its obvious now of course but that’s why the skilled master of disguise made sure I captured her image. Dr Evil knew that this would be a great plot line and expertly delivered the twist when I was least expecting it.
He knew he would need this twist one day and when Anita showed me his boat he knew the time had come, time to show me how close Mr(s) Smith had always been. Now that I think back I can remember an aunt that shaved more often than I do, the personnel officer when I was an apprentice that had a less than womanly Adams apple, my god he* was everywhere.
* The observant will have spotted that I refer to Mr(s) Smith as both masculine and feminine, this is not a mistake I am just waiting for some clarity as to which is correct