What an eventful day!
I took delivery of my new guitar. OK – I’ve been a naughty boy and purchased one of those snazzy Godin xtSA numbers and I have to say it is magnificent. I will be flogging most of my other guitars on eBay tomorrow to pay for this beautiful instrument.
I got my new glasses today and I must admit that the difference they make is incredible. I can read the side of the loose leaf tea packet from a good stride away now. But seriously, the new glasses have eased my ever-twitchy left eye. I guess I must have been straining it. Anyway, here’s a pic of yours truly modelling his snazzy new shades…
The shades are cool, but you need a shave, you dirty ol’ man…
This afternoon we took my mother to the nearby RSPCA stray dog’s home to view a dog that was there. Even though she denied that she was going to ever get another dog, it was evident she was missing Stevie, the dog who was put to sleep recently. If you have never been to a dog’s home, it is a real assault on the senses. Firstly, there’s the smell…phew…worse than my dirty socks and underpants put together. Then there’s the noise: loads of desperate doggies barking to get your attention. And then there’s the emotional pull as you look at these poor abandoned animals that are giving their all to get your attention.
“Choose me!” they waggle and bark furiously, “Choose me! I’m good!”
The dog we saw was a Yorkshire Terrier. He was eight years old, had been left behind by his previous owner because they were moving to a place where no dogs were allowed (Catford, maybe?) and his name is Caplin, which is Turkish for handsome, apparently. When he was let out, he came right up to me immediately for a sniff and a stroke. People may think that I am an evil-hearted scoundrel, but at least the animals always see me for what I am. We gave him the once over. Good teeth, clean eyes, wet nose, clean rear end, good walker. He appeared perfect. It was obviously my mum was going to take him. She needs to be visited by the RSPCA worker to check that she is suitable for rehousing a dog (we had the check when Alex the Wonderdog was housed with us) and then we can go collect him. Maybe this Saturday if we are lucky. On the drive back, I told my mum that I would pay for the dog for her as an early Christmas present. At least, I don’t have to wrap him!
“Hey, I haven’t given you my permission to take my photo and use it in your blog, you black-hearted ne’er-do-well!”
In the post: a promo copy of The Blue Man Group album “The Complex” which cost me about £7, which is approximately £10 cheaper than the tight little blue bastards were asking for the CD at their shows.