November 07, 2004

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE KIDDING MISTER HITLER, IF YOU THINK OLD ENGLAND'S DONE?

That's the question I asked myself this afternoon.

Actually it's the question that the theme tune of Dad's Army asked itself (or asked me, or asked the nation of us that don't have cable tv and thus cannot watch anything else) this afternoon. I am ALONE in the house, a less than rare occasion. K is off being son-ny with his mother, and the delightful housemates C and M are off getting plastered on hot whiskeys as is their TRADITIONAL SUNDAY TRADITION.

This evening, sans K (he is working tonight - this makes me rageful), I am going to a rather posh and over-rated restaurant in Leixlip to bid a fond farewell to one of Kevin's brother's and his wife and son who are moo-ving far south to the "other capital" (as those insecure bastards say) - Cark!

I AIN'T NEVER BAEN TO CARK I HAER IT'S NACE THOUGH

If you are foreign this journal entry may be hard for you, I'm sorry. NO TIME TO EXPLAIN THOUGH.

People just came in from the pub, and if my eavesdropping is correct, I believe that they are making RICE CRISPIE BUNS down there like some class of happy-go-lucky children. There is a lot of giggling and pot banging.

Speaking of treats, ever noticed those miniature packets of Ferrero Rocher chocolates (they come in fours - a recent development; it used to be in threes) that are at the counter of all newsagents? I never bought any before. It seemed so indulgent.

WELL ALL THAT CHANGED TODAY.

I have eaten two of them and I just can't go on. They ARE too indulgent, I should have listened to myself before this disaster of not being able to finish them befell me.

K and I swapped bedrooms with the other couple in our house last night. SCORE ENSUITE AHOY. Oh boy it's a good room. Cold, but that's how I like it. I have smeared the walls with blood in order to make it feel more homey, as I am wont to do. (A little foible of mine; an idiosyncrasy if you will.)

Now I will go join them and their ridiciulous treat-forming, which I suspect is the result of the presence of M's sister, S, who is about the house at the moment, and being FRIVOLOUS.

DOWN WITH GIGGLING AND FRIVOLITY

UP WITH SOILING THINGS

Posted by neuro-praxis on November 7, 2004 03:46 PM, in the category Mouldy Curtains