I was wandering through Lidl this evening (me? Dead classy!) buying things I don't want and will never need. One of the very first posts I put up was about Lidl, which will give you some idea how much of a tinker aficionado I am.
Today, I finally got that plaster hatchet and swivel-head krypton torch I never knew I needed. 
One of them will be good for killing Superman and I can keep the other one with my Lidl telescopic yard-brush and solar-powered garden gnomes.
I didn't need the laser tripod level, the pipe-bending kit, the hole-saw set or the four-part folding ladder.
No indeed. Certainly not.
That's because I already have all of them.
What I did end up with was a couple of outdoor light switches that I'll probably never install on the the verandah I meant to build this year but didn't. 
Here's one of the outdoor weather-proof switches. Aren't they nice?
Right! Into the shed with it, safe among the gnomes and the telescopic yard-brushes.
So anyway, as I stood there, examining my new axe and waterproof switches, with the three bunches of flowers I didn't want, safely jammed under my elbow, there came a low muttering to my left ear.
Just as well you didn't write about chess. It was Cursing Jack.
What?? I recoiled.
Just as well you didn't say Stamp Out Chess.
Why the fuck would I say that? I love chess. Didn't I teach my little Bullet to play chess before he could skateboard?
Cursing Jack looked offended. I'm only saying it's just as well.
I don't follow you, Jack.
Well, he said, hadn't you someone threatening you?
I did, I said. Somebody working in a chewing gum factory sent me a threatening email. For writing about chewing gum. And for having a shit web site. Or both. I call him the Chewing Gum Killer.
See? said Cursing Jack, drawing himself up to his full 1.875 metres. It's just as well you didn't live in Russia and write about chess boards.
I still don't follow you.
The Chess-Board Killer, Jack said. He killed 63 people. I'd say you were the final victim on his list.
No fucking way, I replied, brandishing my plaster axe. Anyway, you have it wrong. They don't call him the Chess-Board Killer.
No?
No. And he's not Russian.
No?
No. He's Italian, and he killed 63 people who didn't like Gorgonzola.
Oh, said Jack. You mean he's –?
That's right, I said. They call him the Cheese-Board Killer.
Grand, said Jack. You all right for Thursday night then?
Thursday it is.
——————–
Why would the Irish need trapper hats?
For trapping?
…i just know i will regret this:
what can you trap with said hat?
A lidl goes a long way.
Nuff.
HAH! The Cheese Board Killer.
That Russian dude was fucked in the head, in all seriousness though, Bock. I was reading about him today and just had to stop because I don't want to know why he wanted murdered bodies to fill up some symbolic chess board.
That's the thing. People seem normal or make a casual threat. Most of the time no biggie, and then other times you have a serious fuck nut on your hands. *shudder*
I know. Sorry. Won't make tasteless jokes any more.
Eh, that was a lie.
Sorry.
Bad enough one lunatic at a time, total mayhem ensues when they form a ring. Who can forget the scrabble rabble?
What's he building in there? He's pounding nails into a hardwood floor and I swear to God I heard someone moaning low and I keep seeing the blue light of a TV show. He has a router and a table saw (in the house). What's he building in there? He used to have a consulting business in Indonesia. What about all those packages he sends? What's he building in there? Bockmeister on this the occassion of your unbirthday. QJS
I missed the €29.99 bread makers, dough!! Did you get one?
ps… tell us more about your shed… with pictures?
you should have bought the chainsaw for 70 euro and they say who is supplying the weapons in limerick?
Sorry Doc. I meant to get back to you. You can trap wind with them.
So BOCK what was it like standing in your jocks in the garden with a hatchet in each hand? . . . Looking for a GUM tree maybe?
. . . There's a Van Morrisson song in there somewhere!
Lidel makes my liddle heart sing (sorry). No really, I gets the vittles for the ankle snappers, and then linger at the middle isle, fingering the chain-saws. At least two calls to her indoors, hoping we need a patio heater or a full sized rubber boat thing, or maybe some diving gear. She relents eventually and allows me buy another all purpose tool thingy and a cute box to hold the others………..
hey Bock, it seems you can get Aldi tings you need in de Lidl, eh? Jc