Can you even conceive dear reader of someone so monumentally stupid that he could address a cashpoint machine, slide in his card, tap out his PIN, order £100, retrieve and trouser said card, and then stride away intent on collecting his offspring from school, leaving the hundred uncollected, limp and flaccid in the slot whence it issued?I am afraid to say that you are reading words typed by just such a ninny. Someone is going to have a good weekend at my expense, I guess.
Oh well, as Zarathustra spake "that which does not kill me, makes me stronger"?
If anyone needs me I may be found playing piano in the office with my elbows and singing madly.
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