At some point you might think what relevance does all this
double top secret candle making have on my life? Well.
Let me explain. There I was just
sat sitting there when my front door came in.
I don’t mean that my butler led the front door into the living room and
introduced it. No. The front door came in after a brutal and
direct suggestion from a policeman’s size twelve combat boot. He didn’t even say “Hello.” Once, twice or thrice.
It would appear that I type with an Irish accent, and when
coupled with the suggestion that I injected cocaine into my eyeballs plus was
discussing priests with guns and deviant sexual practices, the NSA in the USA,
over there in America using their PRISM computer programme thingy, warned MI5
that I could be a suspected terrorist.
So they decided to pay me a visit.
Now, had James Bond called around for a cup of tea, and a
plain biscuit, I would have been pleased, instead I got the riot squad. These fellows were not immaculately dressed
in Armani suits with solar powered stun cufflinks. No, they were dressed from head to toe in
designer black. When they dangled a pair
of shiny handcuffs in front of me I thought they were suggesting some parlour
games and was going to get some fluorescent latex out when I discovered that
they were inviting me to a one sided interview.
I endured the process in fact I would say that I ended up
more shaken than stirred. I shall not
tell you what ensued, as the violence and language was terrible. But suffice to
say, you now understand that the life of a master candle maker is one of high
risk, adventure and probably does follow that Ian Drury song, but without the
Aston Martin and the bikini clad bird.
So. With Vinamold and
Latex almost mastered I could start thinking about how to make the actual
model.
No comments:
Post a Comment