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We stayed in a hotel behind Fortnum and Mason on Piccadilly last night. We were on the 9th floor and looking out at the back of the F and M building I was surprised to see one window that was bricked up. But not in that window tax way, where windows were removed and the space bricked up to save money (houses were briefly taxed on the number of windows they had, which is why you'll notice these ghost windows on old buildings). The window was still there. The bricks were behind. Who was imprisoned in there? And why had they been denied a view?
When I tweeted some people suggested that it might be blinds made to look like bricks, but it looked like real bricks to me. I wonder what's going on in the attic of Fortnum and Mason?
Our date continued up to lunch and we eschewed the hotel breakfast to go to a 50s style restaurant opposite, which turned out to cost us a bit more than a hotel breakfast but it felt special and the £5.50 cappuccinos were pretty good. We are mainly parents these days, but it's nice to treat ourselves and be regular people again. Even if it's just a holiday from our new lives.
On the way back to the car at Welwyn Garden City I popped into the loo. On a bin in the gents was an advert saying that I could advertise on the bin from just £3 +VAT a day. So for just £3.60 a day or £111 a month (plus the cost of artwork) I could have an ad on one bin in a toilet in the corner of a shopping centre. It might be seen by upwards of 200 men a day and how impressed would those men be that my organisation had an advert on a bin in a toilet. I mean not if they found how much I'd paid probably less impressed. But what man in his right mind wouldn't be beguiled by an advert on a bin in a toilet. He'd probably take a photo of it. And if you don't believe me, then that's exactly what I did. So the ad worked. And now that ad has been taken from the bin and placed online where it will be seen by all the people who read this blog. I never check the figures for that (I don't even know where to find them) but it's got to be at least 20 million or why would I have bothered doing this for so long?
I mean I am very tempted to take out an ad, just to see what happens. This could be life-changing. And if this advertising agency are good enough to get me to consider putting an advert on a bin in a toilet in the corner of a shopping centre then they must be good and the advert must be worth it. I'm doing it.
This afternoon a man put his finger up my bum. Then I got off the bus.
I wasn't actually on a bus, I was in hospital and the man was a doctor. At least he said so. And he had a room in the hospital so I think it was legit. I'd gone in about my weird ball ball, so I don't what he was doing up there, but he said he could check my prostate and that it was all part of the service, so after he'd had a look at my bollock I let him lube me up and slip in. It wasn't so bad. I could get used to it. A lot of comics would make up a routine about this, but I've got bigger fish to fry that a smooth prostate. So I won't even mention it.
He didn't think it was worth me doing anything about the cyst, which he considers to be relatively small still. There's an outside danger of something going wrong with any op and me losing a ball, which wouldn't be too much of a problem if I had two or more. But I only have one. So losing one is a 100% ball loss. Plus it might just come back once removed (the cyst, not the ball), so it seems like an unnecessary risk given it's not hurting and it's keeping my lonely ball company.
I came home and there was a little party going on. My family were eating chocolate fingers. It was a bit triggering.
