The Nipper Uplift

A morning a of scrieving as I have a couple of reports to knock out for the upcoming AGM. There may well be questions, so with the careful deployment of the dark arts honed in years in the boiler room of the RBS Titanic, I hope to answer them before they’re asked. Or deflect them away.
Then up town for the holiday haircut. I know, again! And down to meet the daughter and go collect the nippers. The wee boy actually lifts his arms up when he sees me, wanting a lift up. This is most gratifying. The daughter suggests that I get to know him better, perhaps trading a minky day for an occasional baldy day. It’s an idea, that’s for sure. And probably a good one.
Then off to the cinema to see The Creator at Ocean Terminal. Well, Bradshaw liked it. Gawd, what an overlong mess. There were some brief scenes redolent (oh yes) of Blade Runner, but jees you get tired of people shooting streaks of liquid laser fire from 10 yards away and the good guys just running away unharmed. And on and on it went…. Zzzzz