The McStig of That IlkThe Lodger has got a new computer.
It is fast. Very, very fast. I have to put a crash helmet on to use it. It is so fast that I can hardly keep up. I'm tapping away like a demented woodpecker but it is still gaining on me. It just won't slow down. I'm getting out of breath .... it's stopped and looking back at me scornfully. It's unpacking its picnic hamper and laying the table. Now it's eating its lunch in a very leisurely manner. It's -- oh, God -- it's -- HAVING A CIGARETTE. Now it's packing everything up slowly, and moving off again. And it hasn't even fired up its other processor yet. I am still tapping away.
Now me, I was built for comfort not speed. Back in the 1970's someone once said to me: "Yeah but you're like Centre Point you are". I never did understand what they meant. The good thing is, I've got my laptop back, although the N.P. (New Pooter) takes pride of place in the blogging corner, and Lilly the Laptop has been relegated to the coffee table.
Computers to me are like cars. I just need them to get a job done. Someone - possibly the same person as before - once said to me "Yeah, you'd be happy with a Lada, you would". I am to technology what the Lodger is to soft furnishings. He doesn't see the point of cushions, and his idea of decor involves covering everything in the Scottish flag.
The weather looks most promising so I am going to get Out and About a bit this weekend. I promised to take my aristocratic friend Baroness Ambroisine de la Touffe to a flower show at the Chateau d'Enghien tomorrow, and she's a rather exacting old harridan, so thought I'd better upgrade from the usual 3-door jalopy. A fabulous deal from the car hire place - a BMW 118d from Friday midday to Monday morning, unlimited mileage, for 85 euros. I had never driven a Beamer before today. I had a bit of trouble trying to work out where the ignition key was, before the nice man told me how to start it. Within seconds of putting the machine into gear I was IN LURVE. It drives like velvet. Like butter. Like champagne. It switches itself off at the traffic lights, and purrs into action again when I let in the clutch. It's all computerized. With GPS. I think I'll wear black leather tomorrow.
Like I said, cars are purely functional to me.
It is fast. Very, very fast. I have to put a crash helmet on to use it. It is so fast that I can hardly keep up. I'm tapping away like a demented woodpecker but it is still gaining on me. It just won't slow down. I'm getting out of breath .... it's stopped and looking back at me scornfully. It's unpacking its picnic hamper and laying the table. Now it's eating its lunch in a very leisurely manner. It's -- oh, God -- it's -- HAVING A CIGARETTE. Now it's packing everything up slowly, and moving off again. And it hasn't even fired up its other processor yet. I am still tapping away.
Now me, I was built for comfort not speed. Back in the 1970's someone once said to me: "Yeah but you're like Centre Point you are". I never did understand what they meant. The good thing is, I've got my laptop back, although the N.P. (New Pooter) takes pride of place in the blogging corner, and Lilly the Laptop has been relegated to the coffee table.
Computers to me are like cars. I just need them to get a job done. Someone - possibly the same person as before - once said to me "Yeah, you'd be happy with a Lada, you would". I am to technology what the Lodger is to soft furnishings. He doesn't see the point of cushions, and his idea of decor involves covering everything in the Scottish flag.The weather looks most promising so I am going to get Out and About a bit this weekend. I promised to take my aristocratic friend Baroness Ambroisine de la Touffe to a flower show at the Chateau d'Enghien tomorrow, and she's a rather exacting old harridan, so thought I'd better upgrade from the usual 3-door jalopy. A fabulous deal from the car hire place - a BMW 118d from Friday midday to Monday morning, unlimited mileage, for 85 euros. I had never driven a Beamer before today. I had a bit of trouble trying to work out where the ignition key was, before the nice man told me how to start it. Within seconds of putting the machine into gear I was IN LURVE. It drives like velvet. Like butter. Like champagne. It switches itself off at the traffic lights, and purrs into action again when I let in the clutch. It's all computerized. With GPS. I think I'll wear black leather tomorrow.
Like I said, cars are purely functional to me.
18 comments:
sigh...i miss driving a bmw, sugar. take a tight curve for me, please? xoxox
What a pity you didn't think of hiring an eager Moroccan lad to chaffeur you and Baroness. Don't let her sit in the back seat when you're driving, milady.
Music's good. Whatever happened to those lovely snake hips. You never see them now.
Can we have a pic of you posing with the car and wearing black leather?
Sx
Douce Daphné ,
Ultra Rapide l'ordi ! jusqu'à quelle point ?? Comme les Athlètes écossais sponsorisé par " Run and Become " !
Who will carry the "casquette" of the driver ?? Milady
Scarlet, For the held leather! Or the car ?
Merciful God.. you need to shake your lodger firmly by the throat, and tell him that no self respecting Celtic man would ever have the Saltire in his hoose.
The blue and white are the colours of R*****s and the eejit, Mel Gibson.
As for the 118d, have you tried playing with the soft-closing-doors yet?
A wonderful toy.
I'm with Jimmy, no self-respecting Scotsman would drape his bed thus (regardless of his football taste).
I enjoy driving our BMW, and fell in love with instantly when I drove it first. A very moving experience indeed. I felt quite overcome with desire and M. Defarge could hardly say no after that.
A BMW and Daphne in black leather...now there's a thought!
Enjoy the weekend, friendship, the flower show, the wind and road as you ride.
U
I refused to learn how to drive because they'd stopped having running boards. I didn't mind the idea of giving Sexton Blake a lift around town but I wasn't having strangers inside the car.
Savannah, all my curves are tight ones, honey.
GB, eager Moroccan lads in the driving seat of a BMW means police sirens blaring within a radius of half a mile.
Pat, whose snake hips would that be then? The Lodger has no hips at all. If he turns sideways he looks like a blade of grass.
Scarlet, if the old Baronne can hold the camera without shaking we'll see what we can do.
Crabbers, faut lui demander pour la fiche technique, pour moi ce n'est qu'une tele attachee a une machine a dactylographier.
Jimmy, many years of exile have given the poor chap a rather idealized picture of his homeland. Is that Frenchwoman still on the throne? I did notice the doors of the Beamer had a certain lack of clunk about them, among many other agreeable points.
Mme DeFarge, why am I not surprised to find so many BMW drivers among you. My readers know quality when they see it.
U, think Marianne Faithfull on a Triumph Bonneville for the 21st century.
Kev, drive a BMW, or don't drive at all, I say. I do both. I hire a BMW on the odd weekend and take public transport the rest of the time.
The only car I ever owned was a VW Beetle, which did have running boards, and bumpers and everything, and I ain't got no time for this modern rubbish.
Shouldn't a true Scot have his entire house decorated like the Bay City Rollers tour bus circa 1974?
Es-tu à la recherche d'une source sulfureuse miraculeuse ou pour gouter des cerises de "Montmorency"! ou encore l'attirance du gain d'Enghien au casino avec la baronne???
Bon séjour !
I really should read the blogs more often.... the stigmata was hilarious, I see my mother's leather trousers made the cut and most of all the girls at the office here in Nicaragua were so upset about those poor impoverished lads without the shirts that they are sending an aid package. Mainly consisting of depilatory cream, I think.
NP sounds fab. Greets to the lodger.
Dear me do keep up! The snake hips on the dudes on your video.
Gadj, I'd rather hoped you'd have a Trabant, or the Romanian equivalent.
Crabbers, entre nous, je préfère l'autre qui est à 10 minutes de Paris.
Aunty Marianne - or should we call you Tia Maria these days? - Nicaraguan girls like hairless chests, if Bianca Jagger is any judge.
Sorry, Pat, I was too transfixed by those big moustaches to notice their snake hips. Didn't Greg Allman have lovely hair.
As I understand !!
Pour 8 € l'entrée il y a ça ça !
Pour ceci ! Ma Lady la mise n'est pas la même !!!!
Peut-être qu'un beau jour,ou peut-être une nuit,près du lac!!
Je n'ai pas les yeux couleur rubis ,mais avec un costume couleur de la nuit !??
Black leather and a red, RED scarf.
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