The Pounding in your Pocket

Today was a day of Fail, and not just because it was a Monday.
The first I knew about it was when a bedraggled Bud picked me up, scooterless. This was because he goes running on a Sunday and takes a single doorkey in a bank bag with a couple of emergency pound coins. Of course, if you don't remember to re-attach the key onto the main keyring afterwards, you'll be locked out of the house ...
We walked home in the rain and drove down to Jof at her work and I queued up behind some elderly and slow grannies but eventually they shuffled off (no mortal coils involved this time, sadly) and we got her key and went home.
We sold Grandad's old typewriter on Ebay and where you start off at 99p to encourage bidding, if you don't look out, that's the price you get. So, having sold a typewriter for 99 massive p, we tried to deliver it to a house near the nudist beach but they didn't answer the door, so that was a journey wasted, possibly more in petrol than sale money.
Then we tried for the 32nd time to book my birthday party but they seem to be allergic to answering the phone.
Still, I got a Bronze Swimming Certificate in Cub Scouts, just like Rimmer. My homework is to do a little poster/information display about someone I consider to be my hero. I chose good old Arnold Schwarzenegger because he's the big shooter and bomber in all my favourite films, but I couldn't tell them about which bit of Predator I liked best or why Total Recall was better than the Running Man etc because I'm not supposed to have seen them all at age 8. So I focused more on his big muscles and prizewinning physique, and that he lived in Pompey for a bit.