In stark contrast to being called a spastic a few weeks ago, I was trundling along the road today, carrying my dinner, when I passed some boys, one of whom I heard say ‘I like your style’. No doubt this was due to the fact that I had a pizza on my lap – my meal card ran out, and since I hadn’t had one all week, and jen didn’t have her phone, I thought I’d go get some junk food. Best part is, they don’t charge me; the guys in the pizzeria refuse to take my money.

I guess a cripple with a pizza on his lap, zooming along the pavement in a powerchair, lights ablaze, is a pretty funky sight.