Tuesday…

I met some guy in a suit. That’s usually the way it works. You don’t often meet a suit in a man.

Or maybe you do. How would you know?

It’s quite likely that you meet not only suits in men, but suits in men in suits.
Maybe some men in suits are into that kind of thing.

Maybe, on super rare occasions, you might actually meet a man in a suit in a man in a suit!
It would have to be a small man and a small suit but no one said there were any rules about size.

(Obviously excepting that there would also have to be a larger man and a larger suit somewhere in the mix or the whole thing falls apart.)

Some people may like putting slightly smaller people in slightly smaller suits inside themselves while wearing a different suit.

Each to his own I guess. Fill yer boots.
Ahh, the myriad of wondrous differences that make us all unique.

Except Tony.

Tony’s got problems.

Anyway, this guy in a suit I met.

He may have been a man in a suit in a man in a suit in a man in a suit in a man in a suit for all I know. It didn’t seem the most pressing question to ask. And I didn’t really care anyway.

He said, right, get this, he said, no shit, he said that from 3:04pm today we all have to wear hats whenever there is more than four stratocumulus clouds in the sky.

And it’s not the normal kind of hat. Like a hat you can buy.
It’s a special hat that can only be received as a gift from an old man with a true heart and an honest soul.

A man who may be old in form but whose mind is young and strong.
A mind which still jumps and frolics like a spring lamb in the morning sunlight.
A mind heavy with wisdom yet sharp and honed, still eager for new experiences and knowledge.
A man who had seen the world and, regrettably, smelled a lot more of it.
A man who has led a virtuous life, free from malice and greed.
A man of great deeds and greater humility.
A man who lived by a self-imposed code of honour.
A man who gave of himself selflessly and freely.

A man who, above all, would do the job for £3.75 and hour and as many raw spuds as he can eat.

You have to go on a quest to find one of these men; hidden all over the world by the ultra benign ‘Neo-Bananaism Friendly Not Evil At All You Can Trust Us Honest You Can Corporation Plc. Ltd’.

NBFNEAAYCTUHYC Co. Plc. Ltd. – Here to help you become a better you by helping ourselves.

Once you find the old hat guy you have to convince him to give you the hat. He’s a cantankerous old bastard but don’t let him get the better of you.
If it’s totally necessary and the manky, decrepit git is being really obnoxious, don’t be afraid to smack him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.

Wait…
Newspapers don’t really exist anymore do they?
No one has a newspaper nearby, right now, ready to roll up and use as an impromptu weapon, do they?

So what’s the modern alternative? Whack someone in the face with an iPad?
Probably more effective. Well done progress!

So yeah. I mean obviously, don’t just wade in there and kick the crap out of the old fella.

No one would advocate that.

But, you know, if you need to, if it’s absolutely necessary. If you see no other way to deal with the situation. Don’t beat him. Just a swift slap about the earhole or something.

Nothing too harsh.

And only if it’s absolutely necessary.

Then, if it is necessary, then and only then; punch the bony old twat right in his stupid, toothless mug, nick the hat and scarper.