Self Isolation – Day 28
Bit seedy today. Was meant to be on KI for the weekend and it is traditional on KI to have a First Night Frenzy with Sir Ronald Whiting and Mr. Muttley. Only this time we did it in Adelaide. Me, Kirsty, the cat and the dog. We had a wail of a time with the emphasis on wailing.
Problem is, after a heavy night I have weird dreams. Last night I dreamed I was a Bond Girl. Sean Connery was lighting my cigarette, which was an issue as I don’t smoke. I do remember I was wearing a dress so the cigarette was pre-coital then thank God I woke up. So my modesty is intact though I am walking a bit weirdly this morning, which I blame on the knee. That’s my story and I am sticking to it.
Of course I realized the connection as I recently watched a documentary on Ian Fleming with Joanna Lumley narrating and she really was a Bond Girl. In the 27th minute Joanna comes out with these immortal lines: ‘Bond also expects his ideal woman to make a Bearnaise Sauce as well as she makes love. Although presumably not at the same time. Although I of course can…and do…..frequently’. She then sips her Martini. Men of a certain age are silent for many minutes after this. This includes me but then I have never made a Bearnaise Sauce so I would be googling the recipe.
Self-Isolation – Day 31
It had been a busy weekend. On Thursday I was sent out with an urgent errand to buy liquid soap with explicit instructions to buy the one with pomegranate, vegemite and miso soup or some such nonsense. Out of luck with the first supermarket. I thought I had succeeded in the second supermarket only to discover at home that I had bought body wash instead. Our first example of virus product substitution.
Kirsty had now decided on a toilet paper substitute. i.e. a bidet. But installed by the end of Easter weekend. We could have asked a plumber to install it but rates are still prohibitive. Call-out charges are three-course lunch and a good bottle of Red with quality nothing less than a Penfolds 389. In fact a Penfolds 389. Charges continue at $365 per hour plus GST. Cheaper to do it oneself or so I thought.
Boy did I have to get my S-H-one-T together. Multiple trips to Reece and Bunnings and after 36+ hours of work I finally had the bidet installed. Can I give you one piece of advice when testing the bidet for the first time: don’t sit on it. Not being a plumber I had no control over the water pressure. Water on and an unbelievable force lifted my testes skywards. As I searched for my manhood, which seemed to be somewhere between my neck and the ceiling, I promised myself that one day I would say No to Kirsty. Just once.
Some would say to move a little forward on the bidet so that you actually hit what you are aiming for but as one of my Queensland friends would say ‘do you really want it to rip you a second arsehole?’ So the bidet is installed and will be left for posterity. My grandchildren can wonder in awe at what grandpapa did during the Big Virus.