Pimped
“I hate to say it, but your car’s been pimped”, said Chris (referring to MTV’s “hit” “shows“)
A discussion ensured (between the Constipation Motors staff) regarding the relative merits of the US and UK series. I resisted the temptation to suggest a local version be filmed, “Pimp moi roide”.
Truth be told it’s not much of a pimp job - all they’ve done is add the spoiler that hadn’t arrived in time for when I collected the Copen and change the registration plates for the vanity ones I’d bought.
Still, Chris & Co seemed happy with their work.
Earlier I’d bumped into Shazza. I’d not seen her for a while as she’s been keeping a low profile (given that she’s got a funeral to attend tomorrow this may be for a good reason). She’d waxed lyrically about the Copen (as she’d seen me sitting patiently in the car park last night) and also told me I looked “the picture of happiness”. I reckon it’s the beard - she’s always liked me in a beard.
Not liked in that way, of course. Well, I don’t think so. Hmmm. Maybe I should arrange a lunch date for next week … or an evening spin around Norfolk. Hmmm.