Financial Mismanagement and meltdown.

Saturday

Saturday was shit.

Sunday

Sunday was shit and cold. I think it rained and hailed. The hail piled up on my tarpaulin suspended by inefficient and crap warehouse hooks. Eventually they got bent out of shape and filled my nice dry, clean boat with loads of cold hail, which had reached the consistency of snow. I had to go out outside where it was a bit colder than inside and re-bend them properly so it wouldn't happen again.

I was also feeling rather effeminate so I went hardware shopping with Jamie. We bought some sweet manly shit like a hammer drill ($20) a jigsaw ($20) a pack of screw bit ($20), a builders square ($20), one of those packs of drill screwy bits ($20) and 4 screws (also $20)

Unfortunately the empowering feeling of masculinity that only the handling of power tools made me completely disregard the need for plywood, so I could make my boat awesome.

Monday

Monday was a dreary day of longing to nail/drill/sand the boat. I felt that soon my boat would leave me, if it wasn't for the generosity of a passing stranger...

Jerzei gently opened the door,
"Hello, everybody! Hello, John, my little Thunderbird Puppet!"
He ruffled my hair
"Thunderbirds are go, yes? Come on let's twist again, like we did last summer! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Let's twist again... Like we didn't do in Moscow, because I've never been there of you see, you know. I am English person! Hi, I am Jerzei, yeah! Crazy wacky landlord. You know, I like very much your punk rock stars. You know, your Lulu! Your Dave Clark Five! Oh yes! I think they are F-A-B! That's English for 'stupid', yeah! Okay! Fantastic! Hey, Fionn. Look! Here, I have some Coca-Cola here, yes? We have party, yes? Okay, let's dance! Let's do the 'fog', yes? You know, I am liking very much your Harold MacMillan. Thanks to him, I am never having-"

Jerzei froze as he processed the beauty and potential of the boat. He slowly stepped back as he gave it a long and loving stare and slowly started to lustily caress the incredible piece of maritine machinery. He felt honoured to have such a fine vessel in his dry dock come 5 to 6 bedroom property.

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It's too cold for a picture and the flash will make it look shit. All the grey paint washed off so it just needs to be sanded.

I'll leave you with some words

Sweeter than the flesh of sour apples to children,
The green water penetrated my pinewood hull
And washed me clean of the bluish wine-stains and the splashes of vomit,
Carring away both rudder and anchor.