Days of Living Dangerously.

And finally.............spare a little more than a brief thought for Dangerous. He is one of the Mutants who was given his nickname not because of his propensity for violence (he is a senior manager in social services and would rather listen to something untrendy than punch anyone) but for attracting disaster.
His latest brush with death happened on Friday night when he and his wife were watching the Glastonbury highlights on TV. Mrs Dangerous said she wanted to watch something on another channel just as The Killers, a popular music combo of which he is particularly fond, were about to appear. Being a reasonable sort, he switched the telly over and then ran out of his front door to grab his new Killers CD from his car with a view to listening to it on his headphones while his wife watched her programme.
So, there he was, running at full tilt down his front path when, in his own words, he "forgot" that three months ago he had had an iron front gate fitted. Bang!! He hit it at about 25mph and ended up winded and doubled over.
The belly bruise he proudly displayed to us yesterday was impressive, to say the least - about six inches in diameter and with a jet black centre surrounded by concentric rings of purple, burgundy, red and green. I was about to notch it up as a record breaker when I remembered that about three years ago he had been cooking a barbecue when he smelt the whiff of sizzling pork. At about the same time he remembered that he was not cooking anything porky, he leapt back in agony, having discovered that his voluminous belly was draped over the griddle, cooking away nicely. Now that WAS an injury to be proud of.
No, Dangerous is unique and so far too special to be a resident of Grantham. We shall keep him instead.