Let's go fly a kite

I'm off in a minute to help a friend rebuild his car.
I do this partly out of a genuine interest in tinkering with greasy bits of metal, but mostly out of a sense of duty.

I did take the car apart for him in the first place and then convince him to spend several gazillion squid on shiny (soon to be greasy, keeps my interest up) new parts to put back in, so I feel like I really should help him get it running again.

That sounds like I am confident that it will ever run again.

I'm not, but don't tell him.

I'm also going to sling my power kite in the boot, and we may well go and fly it if we get bored of staring at bits of metal in various stages of the shiny/greasy metamorphosis and saying to each other "where the fuck does that go?"
I'm telling you this, because it is a 7.2 square metre kite, (think parachute but with longer strings) and it is only a matter of time before it is the chief cause of my gruesome and unfortunate death.
I've only ever flown it in light winds and I have been pulled a good 6 feet off the floor many times, and been dragged horizontally across the floor at shoe-burning speeds more often than I care to admit.

It looks like the breeze is picking up, it was nice knowing you all.