Bollards and Bikinis
A couple of weeks ago I shrieked around the district in triumph having secured the construction of a bollard at the top of Dashwood Road. I had been trying to get it in place for about six months, and had strangled myself in more red tape than it would take to gift-wrap the Eiffel Tower. But a local resident and I got there in the end. God bless the Council and its lightning reflexes.
Today someone reversed into it, knocking it down, before driving off. Which was fairly irritating.
Thankfully someone got his number-plate, which I have passed on to the Police. I don’t know if wanton bollard destruction is a crime, but I hope so because he has deflated me somewhat, and thus deserves the type of punishment metered out to errant slaves in Roman times.
It is doubly bad because I am on day two of my “bikini fit” diet today, and in absolutely no mood for irritants. The first stage of the diet is a “detox,” which is apparently supposed to make you feel better by removing from your diet all solid foods for 48 hours. So I haven’t eaten anything requiring the use of teeth since Saturday evening, and am feeling the strain. Yesterday I was only allowed water. Today I have progressed to water and smoothies. Tomorrow I am on solids again, but only fruit.
I work with nurses and they doubt the healthiness of my choice. I doubt my own sanity, and would genuinely kill for a bag of crisps. And not just a stranger. I would kill a friend.
But the women in the book look good in bikinis, and since I am too lazy to find a diet for men, this will have to do for now.
Whether it works or not will be interesting. But regardless, if they catch the bollard murderer I will suggest to the judge that he don his black hat and sentence him to a fortnight of bikini fitness dieting. That’ll teach him.
Rick
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