On Swiss Army knives

On Swiss Army knives

"That Swiss Army knife of yours," says the boy, indicating the weedy penknife on my desk, "It's rubbish, isn't it?"

He might have a point, for it is nothing but a knife, a screwdriver, a pair of scissors, a ball-point pen, a torch, a key-ring and 64MB of memory. I mean: what can you do with 64MB these days? Bugger all, that's what.

"What it needs", he says, "is a few minor modifications, and you might not get laughed off the streets."

I am so cool, I've been laughed off the streets, all the way round the block and back onto the streets again, so I do not care.

So, after a few tweaks in the Scaryduck Jr Bedroom of Doom, my Swiss Army knife now comes with the following:

- Mobile phone with web access
- Toothbrush
- The actual Swiss Toni (Comes with a number of phrases such as "Whittling a tent peg with a Swiss Army knife is very much like making love to a beautiful woman")
- The actual Swiss Army, each with a Swiss Army knife
- Dog
- My trusty frying pan of SPANG
- 32MB of computer memory

I pushed the boy on this dreadful turn of events, for that is barely three minutes of video downloaded from certain websites.

"Dad - you've got to make sacrifices if you want to be a trend-setter. Trust me."

I SPANGed him with my trusty frying pan of SPANG and locked him in his room. Kids, eh?