Me, And My 'Virility' Scooter.

I think I'm having what they call a 'prolific' day today. Not that I have any idea what it means. I'll just trust that I'm having one, and hope for the best.

Just as long as it has nothing to do with body parts failure I will be happy as, at this precise moment, everything is functioning in the way it should, and I see no good reason for this to change, at the very least until I finish this particular post.

Then, If by chance anything does change, and a random body part, such as an ear, or more seriously the only penis I have suddenly falls to my feet, take it from me there will be a problem.

Now, as to why it would randomly be my penis and not perhaps, an eyeball, I have absolutely no idea. Because yet again, I find myself typing whatever comes into my head in the moment, and it's all a bit cockeyed and, to be honest, as there's no such word as eyecocked it's the best I can offer by way of explanation. So there.

Although, I suppose someone could be eyecocked by way of being alert to a moment, or situation, I feel a Countdown contestant may well struggle to have this accepted as a nine-letter word by the official adjudicator despite its plausibility. Although, having said this I may stand to be corrected because, according to the Urban Dictionary, there is actually a definition, and it's, I quote - "When a woman looks at a man’s penis, or when a woman looks at a bulge in a man’s pants which is created by the size of his penis."

Well, who bloody well knew? Although to be fair, it is referenced as two words, as in 'eye cocked' - but, I was close.

Don't even bother to try and fathom out where this is leading, because I haven't got a bloody clue either, except for talking about mobility scooters, of which I am an owner of this would-be penis extension. How one of these first came into my life is, as you would expect of me by now, a bit of a story.

At the time I was down in Taunton. You know that place down the M5 that's famous for two things. Cricket, and cider. Apart from this, it's a non-event of a town where, by and large, it seems, elderly Somerset people - sorry, I meant 'Zummerzet' people, go to die. Oh, and more recently migrants who have ended up there to replace the dead elderly, so the town at least looks busy in between one cricket season ending and the next one starting.

Anyway, so there I was in situ for a while, and by chance just happened to crack my ankle while going for a pee. Don't ask. This is me, remember? To cut a long story short, and save me from hobbling around, I decided to rent a mobility scooter for the duration, and got to enjoy it so much that the mobility company I was renting it from found themselves really struggling to reacquire it from me because, basically, everything I shouldn't have been doing with it, I was doing.

Okay. So, let's forget the fact that I was performing doughnuts and wheelies, and generally finding things to do that not even the manufacturers would have ever considered possible, I subsequently found out, by the way - approximately two months later, that I was only supposed to be driving it while I was in town, and not galavanting around all over Taunton, and beyond, thoroughly enjoying my new found freedom.

Oh, and I also subsequently discovered that the mobility centre would have rather liked it to be returned to them at the end of the day, and not parked up outside my flat on the outskirts. Had it not been for the fact that I somehow ended up with the charger for the scooter, this may well have been the case.

Oh, and did I mention that I was giving people 'backies' around Vivary Park that probably got the mobility people slightly upset, and um, okay, probably best not to go any further and mention too much about the little old ladies I dodged like skittles while going full speed around the slalom of the annual Taunton Flower Show either. Suffice it to say, a decade, or so further on, I now have my very own scooter right here, in Bristol.

If there was a comparison to be made, my particular model, at no less than a couple of grands worth, is up there with the Maserati's of scooters. Not that it's capable of insane speeds. No, not at all. Because, as a law-abiding citizen, interfering with the speed would be frowned upon. So, I'll say it's nippy, and leave it at that. I call it my 'lazy wheels' as it gets me around all over the city and, I can use bus lanes, cycle paths, roads, pavements, dirt tracks, grass, and, in fact, there's pretty much no terrain it cannot handle.

I literally go where vehicles cannot, and, somewhat surprisingly, I find vehicles extremely considerate to me. So, it's a big win to own one for nipping around the city centre and beyond. Oh, I still get people whining because I'm considered as going too fat - even though I'm within the limit and the odd numpty who, with blissful ignorance, assumes I should be on the road while bereft of knowledge that there is such a thing as 'pavement AND road' scooter models, such as mine.

Other than that not too much has changed for me. I still have the odd, random young female on my lap who wants a lift somewhere, and although Castle Park doesn't quite live up to its Taunton equivalent, if there could be such a thing, and there aren't so many elderly ladies to encourage grey hairs where there are none currently present, it's still a bang-on form of transport.

Now, what was I saying about penises again, or, perhaps more precisely, extensions?