His mobile phone is a perennial pain, his email is totally unmanageable, and not a single person has ever been able to complete the transfer of six gabillion dollars into his bank account – despite numerous attempts.
His robotic dog has a tendency to pee oil on the carpet, and manages to produce a steaming pile of nuts and bolts at least eighteen times a week, and in a variety of embarrassing environments.
He has been vetted in so many chatrooms that people no longer even believe that he is a 30/40 something, fat, balding, boring man, nevermind a Jason Donovan look-a-like.
An RFID chip placed in the shoe of his nemesis only warns Sneak of the foe's imminent arrival once he has been, kicked, and gone again.
The cameras and security key cards at his local swimming bath changing rooms have put pay to a lot of his erm, nature photography, while advances in optometry mean that his disguise, think Tootsie on a low-budget, no longer works when the local Women's Institute holds one of its marital aids parties.
The result of all this is that Sneak is fairly bored of interacting with women in a mature and grown up manner.
Thanks heavens then for the British boffins that have apparently developed a camera that lets the user see underclothes. Oh wait. It says that it lets people see under clothes, not underclothes.
Ah. That’s not the same thing at all is it. Bah.
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