Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing

A pleasant morning of mooching around town, dodging the worst of the showers and hanging around in cafes. Stopped of at home to pick up a few things, during which H took the photo that's going to be my dust jacket shot, should I ever need one:


And yes, I am a deliberately over-dressed; the glasses, shirt & waistcoat were affected in anticipation of my ultra-cultural trip to the theatre. It's still a damn fine photo though!

We grabbed lunch in town and chatted away until the time came for me to go and meet R & her mum at the Bike Shed Theatre to catch a show. Unluckily for us, the play was over-subscribed and despite putting ourselves on the standby list, we didn't manage to get in. It was a shame — I'm sure it'd've been good, based on what I'd heard about the Ovid thing — but instead we reluctantly resigned ourselves to tea and conversation — enjoyable if all too brief — before agreeing to meet up later in the week for climbing related activities.

This morning, I encountered vincel struggling through the atrium, loaded up with parcels, like a bald Mr Tumnus. When the stairs were reached, this wretched vision of a human being turned aside and took the lift, claiming that his feeble health — I suspect a Dickensian complain like rickets of the lung or orphan's croup or some such — prevented him from ascending without mechanical assistance.

It was a truly pathetic sight. So pathetic, that I kept expecting him to say, "God bless us, one and all..."

Just when I want to do some remote support, I discover my stupid landline has gone for a burton. It seems like it's connected — it hums and echos stuff back — but there's no dial tone. Most odd.

Bumped into Irish and Nikki outside HMV and spent about five minutes trying to make myself heard over the absurdly loud bells of St Petrocks. About a minute after we split and went our separate ways, they stopped ringing. Typical.

I've totally decided I'm only going to post a totally short thing today, not because I don't have anything to say, cuz I so do, I've got like a billion things to say, stuff to say in like spades or something. No, I'm keeping totally quiet to keep up with the rest of the gang who are all like monoparagraphic. Not because they're all like out having a super cool time every night, as if, but because they can't type or something. Seriously, it's like watching a chicken peck at a scrabble set. A short sighted chicken. A chicken that has been totally beaked for factory farming. A chicken that's never like seen the Latin alphabet before.

Which totally reminds me, I so meant to blog this earlier, but I like forgot or something. The Grauniad, that total torch of like liberal understanding, had an article called Why I hate vegetarians today. I read it with like an open mind and I found that it was like totally fair or something: most veggies are totally annoying. They have like this whole zealous thing going on that's way off putting or something.