As mentioned last week, there have been a lot of changes due to the COVID-19 lockdown, I've already covered wearing shorts, my new command centre and laughing my arse off at companies who produce petrol, for years they have had us over a barrel (literally) now they can't give the stuff away, the chumps. This week I turn my focus to military helicopters and mad ollie grabbers.
Military Helicopters - When all this nonsense started people were genuinely scared that it would end up like the film Contagion (if you haven't seen it check it out, it is the hilarious tale of a woman who catches a cold in Hong Kong and 10 minutes later the world is told to use the weird practice of 'social distancing' and to 'wash your hands' and to 'stay in your own bubble' while the scientists frantically try and come up with a cure before the human race is wiped off the face of the earth. As I said, hilarious...oh and completely unrealistic, the writer clearly had a vivid imagination!)
I, like most reasonable people, completely scoffed at these scaredy cats. Everything is under control, keep those mitts scrubbed, just look after your household, don't club-neck anyone with a snotty nose and stop hoarding toilet paper you bad meffs. Relax, the world is still turning, everything is completely normal...wait was that a Chinook helicopter flying about 20 feet above my house?! WTAF?
For days there was a steady stream of sexy helicopter action over my house. At first, I thought it was pretty cool then I started to worry, eventually I panicked and bought 426 rolls of Cushelle in the off chance martial law came into effect - I'd have no food but a clean hoop. To this day I don't know what was happening but I've calmed down a bit now and sleep like a baby on my mattress made entirely from triple quilted bog roll.
Mad Ollie Grabbers - Ms L had a go at me a couple of months ago for fiddling with my bits while we were watching telly (TMI? Sorry...it doesn't get any better). As every man will confirm, it is complicated down there, things need to be adjusted and freed up from time to time. This time though, she might have been on to something as my knackers seemed to need constant adjustment.
A quick gander at my draws identified the problem; the gusset of my most comfortable boxershorts had completely split meaning my veg were protruding out of the bottom and were periodically being cut at like someone was going at them with a pair of material scissors. It was at that moment I realised it was time for some new undercrackers.
I had a few choices, buy a cheap multipack from a supermarket, buy a moderately expensive pack from Next/M&S or sell a kidney for a pair of premium draws from Calvin Klein/Armarni etc. None of them really floated my boat so I plumped for another option, mail order undies.
I am now a proud subscriber to Oddballs - The Underwear Everyone Is Talking About (or so it says on their website). Each month they send me a mad pair of trolleys (with socks that compliment) for a tenner. Seems a bit extravagant but I'm on lockdown so weird things like this appear perfectly normal to me at the moment.
Check them out, there is stuff for men, women and kids, most in epileptic fit inducing colours and patterns. At the moment you can get 5% off with the code 5BALLS. I'm not on any commission, I just think their stuff is great.
Right, I think I have said enough/too much (delete as applicable) so I will bid you adieu. Tune in next week for Tales Of Lockdown Part 3 - The Threequel...