I've got sunburn.

I've also got blisters, splinters, cuts, and nettle stings.

This is the result of a few hours "honest work" in the "open air", which is part of the "healthy lifestyle".

Other people spend their lives wanting to be rich, trying to turn the clock back, regretting a single mistake, fighting for a cause, or just waiting for their lives to begin.

I spend mine being slightly annoyed.

My dad's running his car on vegetable oil.

He's not doing it for ecological reasons - he doesn't know the difference between CO2 and H2SO4, and probably thinks a carbon footprint is something left by a coalminer's boot. No, it's just that right now it's cheaper to buy a big can of unspecified "Vegetable Oil" from food wholesalers and mix it half-and-half with petrol from a station...than to buy twice as much petrol.

But then, dad always did think the best way to gain pounds was to save pennies. Our diet was always whatever's on special offer at the supermarket.

Just at the moment, between an oil shortage and a food shortage, a very few people can use one as the other. In six months I don't it'll be cheaper anymore.

I do know someone slightly who's converted their car to work entirely on all manner of edible oils, and his solution to climate change is for everyone in the world to do the same. But he thinks it's a mad idea for everyone to ride bicycles instead.

I know someone else who founded an ecological lobby group to push for things like carbon emission reduction tax breaks. His slightly Machiavellian idea was that it was only when such half measures had been tried and definitively proven themselves ineffective that the necessary radical measures would be considered by governments.

He got squeezed out of his own group for being too radical.

Whenever I hear someone on TV talking about "The Climate Change Debate" they seem to be ambiguous about which climate change question they're engaging with - "What should we do about climate change?" or "Is the climate changing at all?". Discussions about the former tend to drift into the latter.

So the world is doomed because the human race is too mad and silly not to destroy it. But nevermind, because I had sex tonight. In a garage. For the first time in (my god!) three months. It was meant to be last night but, well. he was delayed or something.

I really must dig out those old cricketing kneepads. Cramp is, uh, cramping my style. You know you're getting old when you want to stop halfway through a shag because it's unergonomic.

And when you start thinking of words like "unergonomic" halfway through a shag.

What am I going to call this post? Something that ties together several of it's themes. Oh I know!


  1. I imagine that blisters, splinters and cuts are part of the occupational hazard where garage sex is concerned.

  2. Garage sex!? Hmm ... specifically is that forecourt sex, pump sex, car-wash sex, or behind the garage door sex? Whatever it is, it sounds damp, and uncomfortable to boot.