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Gas Guzzler.
The kids arrived this morning along with an enormous 4x4 RC Jeep. A prize for dancing (?) musical bumps over the New Year. Rough as a badger and noisy as Guns n’ Roses it cruised around the lounge for a while, grunting and groaning and oozing menace. Once the novelty had worn down a little it retired to a windowsill – whilst the first-aid super glue set.
The quest for sausage.
We have a new George Formby (not made by Hornby sadly) Grill. It cooks sausages in 8 minutes, or 10 if you are particular, or 12 if you want them actually cooked. My sausage fantasy ran on for a few hours this morning. I finally tracked some down (it’s a public holiday) in the Co-op at Rosyth, along with a newspaper and a bottle of HP sauce. When I got home nobody was much interested in sausages for breakfast. Pop tarts, breadsticks, crisps, cola and other left over snacks were much more popular. Feeling rejected I did nothing for a few hours, then at about twelve thirty I cracked and ate four of the big fat boys on two rolls. The GF does look a little like a nineteen fifties flying saucer (see above), could that be the real reason I like it?
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