Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Last night ended later than I expected; after the show I went to see some friends in Sheung Wan, shortly leaving for Singapore, and not wanting to have to transport their accumulated booze with them.
I assume that's why I ended up drinking tequila; there's never a rational explanation for that sort of behaviour, and the trouble is that drinking, like any contact sport, requires a level of physical fitness and mental toughness that I just don't possess currently.

So instead of leaping out of my bed at 6 this morning and putting in a 12k run, I languished until midday, listlessly looking at things on the internet, then eating a mushroom burger that failed to quell my hunger pangs.

Then we trundled over to Hung Hom for the viewing of a baby. The baby was asleep and not doing anything, and I found myself transfixed by the television, which showed a series of increasingly inane programmes involving men with bad haircuts and lamentable pastimes. First somebody with a garage-sized, electronically timed Scalectrix track.

Then four prats (one was nicknamed "Kevo", which struck me as a nickname so dull and unimaginative that it hinted at terrifying desolate, barren steppes where his internal life should have been) renovating Volkswagen Beetles for a drag-racing event. It's not bad enough that your hobby would be seeing how fast you could accelerate in a straight line; they had to attempt it in manifestly unsuitable vehicles.

The sound was muted but I assumed from their pallid complexions and shopworn demeanour that they were British. They were succeeded by five big Americans, all with beards or lamentable tattoos, trying to fix up a lorry. Like Pimp My Ride for the road haulage industry. I guess they had to be American, because the captions kept referring to a "truck"; if they had been Brits, it would have been a lorry, a word which sounds vaguely incompetent the more I think about it.

Discrepancies in the naming schema of road vehicles aside, I don't understand why it could have captured my attention so, especially when there was a little bundle of new life much more deserving of attention, right next to the television. But then the mother put on a slideshow of baby pictures, and I got bored of looking at the television and went home. A fairly satisfactory day, then.