Toes And Toys
I’ve had this toe infection now for over a week and I am really starting to worry. It all started when I went against everyone’s warnings and got a pedicure in Manila. When the girl pulled out her un-sterilized knife and began jabbing it in between my nail and flesh, to her surprise, it began to bleed. When I peered over my gossip mag to see what all the pain was about, she assured me that everything was normal. I gave her a re-assuring wink to let her know I was ok and I went on to read about whether or not the Brangelina couple are going to have another baby. I don’t care what Suzanne from ‘yes’ magazine says, I think the time is right and they are ready for another.
So, I don’t really know how long I’ve got. I’ve decided for the remaining time I have, I will live out every boy-hood dream . If this incident happened before 1993, my first stop would probably be MJ’s house. But since the controversy, the biggest thing now is ice-skating. I quickly got knocked out of the APPT tournament and headed for the rink. I had never been ice-skating before but I had watched many many hours of it on t.v and in the movies. In fact every film ever made in the snow involves ice-skating in it somewhere. Even Cast Away which was filmed on a desert island featured a pair of skates. I also know that whenever you go ice-skating for the first time you have to bring a girl. I grabbed my girlfriend, laced up my boots and hit the ice.
After years of bruised backbones and gushing cuts in my legs, I’ve picked up a bit of rollerblading. I found that ice-skating works off much the same principle. At first you think standing on a thin blade of metal or a row of wheels is impossible. I assure you it is quite possible. Like any new skater, I wobbled and skidded but eventually I took to it like a pro. Ducking and weaving in and out of the newbies, “get the fuck out of my way!” I would yell at the children. It was a lot of fun.
After I took out my pencil and paper and crossed out ‘ice-skating’ from my list, I was overjoyed to see my next item of excitement; owning a remote control helicopter. I don’t care who you are or where you’re from, I will stare you in the face and call you a liar if you try to tell me that owning a remote control helicopter wasn’t your biggest dream in life. I galloped up 4 flights of escalators to the hobby shop and purchased the greatest remote control helicopter ever. I took it home and ripped open the packaging, huffing and puffing the whole time with excitement. It was marvelous, an engineering master piece. Da Vinci couldn’t have dreamed up a greater piece of machinery in his wildest sleep. It has a set of machine guns AND missiles mounted on both sides and it is complete with flashing blue and red lights. I loaded the batteries and got to work on my first flight. It was a test mission, so the weapons were not necessary yet. It took off and I bounced it around my room a few times before I realised that I should probably fly it outside.
In the morning, I was so excited to show Marcus my new purchase that I completely forgot about the potential danger. I started her up and flew her straight into the wall smashing the propeller to bits. I cried like a little baby. Marcus, who had just woken up, wiped the sleep from his eyes, thanked me for the demonstration and went back to bed.
Not one to give up, I gave my maid the broken beauty and sent her out into the streets. I told her not to come back until it was fixed. 30 minutes later, she came back with the propeller fixed and ready to fly like the Goddess she is. I can’t wait till tomorrow when I hit the park.