Dumbass
Americans have coined some pretty handy words, including "dumbass". I must admit that I was a "dumbass" yesterday night. At nine o'clock, I jumped in Clint's South Korean cockpit and headed off to our nearest "Lidl" store. Ever since The Plague disrupted our lives, I have tended to do our main supermarket shopping late on when I can always get parked in one of my favourite spaces and there's hardly anybody else shopping. Semi-skimmed milk, Cavendish bananas, fun-size apples, spreadable butter, carrots, a stalk of Brussels sprouts, a joint of "grass fed" roasting beef, Greek yoghurts, cosy winter socks for little girls, shower cream, smoked bacon, a bottle of Ukrainian white wine, Madagascar vanilla custard, sourdough crumpets, onions, horseradish sauce and chicken breasts...plus a few other items. I plonked all of these things on the conveyor belt, plumped up my shopping bags in the trolley and the job was soon done. The young ma...