…is a term used to describe those who have 3 or less ‘apps’ on a phone or appliance they’ve had for more than 6 minutes.
If a success in personal life is measured by Facebook ‘friends’ then surely the measure of cleverness, popularity or in fact penis length (especially for women) is the number of apps present on one’s digital interface.

I have one app on my phone. There are some others that were there when I acquired it, but for me, I have just the one. And I realise that I’m missing out on life, the universe and everything in this respect. I’ll never know where my nearest kung fu accessory store is located relative to my current, gps authenticated position. I’ll never watch Sky Sports news when I’m on the bus. And I’ll never bleep my bar code in someone’s face. So much lost. There ya go.

From our bank, to keep us ‘happy’ we get all manner of what can loosely be described as either ‘shit’ or alternatively, ‘added benefits’. One of which is called Airport Angels. Virtually every airport has an unspecified lounge that is for plebs who can’t get into the Swissair First Class Lounge, or the BA Fascists Only, or Lufthansa Business Class Uber Alles. And they’re neat and utilitarian and, for us, free.

So we pitched up at Heathrow at the ungodly fucking hour of about 6 o’clock this morning, and I needed coffee like a drowning man needs oxygen, like a fish needs water, like Spurs need a striker, and I was going to want to eat something to line my stomach before risking BA’s either super-frozen or microwaved within an inch of its life, offering. Ahhhhhh, Airport Angels; brilliant.

Excpet we’d forgotten to bring our little credit card thingys. Shit. Then Mel, of all people, (ok, there was only the 2 of us as we didn’t include the taxi driver in the conversation) suggested that we had in fact once downloaded the ‘app’. Holy. Shit. An app.

With no disrespect to Mel (as if), for her to think of something of a technical, on-line nature is like your cat washing the car. Its like North Korea unilaterally disarming. Its like Arsene Wenger applauding a refereeing decision or holding up a trophy.

So, duly ‘apped up’ we went to the lounge, ate croissants, drank buckets of coffee, loaded up with fruit and saved the £47 it would have cost in Starbucks.

Several hours later and we’re here in Vienna. And we’ve already had strudel. Calories just don’t count when your away, thankfully.

Happy sunday; gooten whatever

A xxxx