Why on earth should he bother buying new swim trunks when the ones he's got still works. Sure they're a bit worn, but they cover his ass and serve as a perfect nutsack. The 35-year-old has recovered from skiing in the alps with his best friends, all though he feels a little bit uneasy away from the mountain. Now summer has arrived and he is filling the children's little plastic tub in the garden wearing nothing but Speedos, brown men's socks and sandals. He enjoys himself thinking about last autumns trip to St. Petersburg with his friends. They didn't see the Hermitage, but experienced all the colours of the city through golden bubbles. Tonight they have a babysitter and are going to a couple dinner with friends they met last year on Majorca. He has yet to decide whether they will take a taxi , and silently argues with himself; there's nothing wrong in bringing your own GPS. Life is good, he thinks, not understanding the full meaning of life. Then he brings the speakers out in the garden, cranks up the volume and listens to mountain rock performed by Gauge 44.