OG

Today, as could have been expected, I struggled to be a useful part of the universe. I switched off my six o'clock alarm and slept through until nine, but I was still a shambling useless mass until late afternoon. Coffee didn't help, breakfast and lunch revived me not, and it was only when I'd been to the OG department store over the road and purchased a food processor that I felt any better.

OG is a chain of department stores in Singapore, owned by Ice-Cube from NWA, one of the Original Gangstas. It might seem like Singapore is a long way from Compton, but the same values of customer service, inflammatory rap lyrics and a 14-day moneyback guarantee are just as successful in Asia as Los Angeles. I suppose.

Sadly there was nobody in a hoodie and a pair of trousers with the waistband at knee height to serve us today. I suppose the gangstas who usually work in the homeware department have Sunday off. We had to make do with a small lady without any visible Thugg Life 4-Ever tattoos, and not even one Glock 9mm. Standards are slipping.

I wanted to ask for a demonstration of the food processor before we bought it, but then a central tenet of OG's policy is not to get high on your own supply. Or to remove objects from their packaging unnecessarily, while still offering a two-year warranty. So we descended five escalators and returned home, clutching our new prize.

My wife was terribly excited by the food processor. Is that because she's a woman, and women like stuff like that? Perhaps so. No sooner had we got home and I'd put the food processor in the kitchen, than she'd sat down on the sofa and read a book by Irma Toth. I assume that's how you use a food processor: we only ever had whisks in my house growing up. It was a harsh existence in the borderlands of Kent and Surrey, living from day to day, never sure if you'd be able to whip up a decent foam from egg white and sugar again. You lived like every meringue might be your last.

Later, I went running. When I returned, my wife had made me a delicious dinner of sausages and mashed potato. She had forgotten to use the food processor to blend them together, but I assume in a few days time I'll be enjoying delicious smoothies every time I come back from my runs. Or getting kitchen utensils bounced off my head.