Two things happened this week. Well three if you count my smart phone regressing into utter brainlessness as I tried to upgrade from Gingerbread to whatever came next. I finally plucked up the gumption to rid myself of the single worst telephone provider in the known universe. I did this so that I could use my alleged smart phone to tether my tablet. For some reason you can’t do that on pay-as-you-go. So, after visiting the same shop twice a day for five days I finally managed to find someone actually working and did the swap. Great. Now I could tether my tablet. Except that I can’t. My tablet apparently didn’t like being bounced down the road at fifty mph when I was thrown from my motorbike. They really don't make them like they used to.
The other thing that happened, or rather didn’t happen, was on Thursday. I don’t know of it’s the same in the US but for some reason this last Thursday is considered the best day for book sales of the whole year. Great I thought; bookmark the Porsche web site.
I waited, and waited, checking the umpteen sites upon which my miserable novels are posted. I waited some more and then took a break and left it. Two minutes before midnight I went back, drooling about my 911’s new sonic twenty speaker set-up. I’ve fantasised the turbo to death already.
I hate Porsche’s, anyway.
This is why I don't paint people or animals. Although my rocks and skies are coming on.