Thursday, October 28, 2004

October 3 (Sunday): Rudy Will Await Your Foundation. Sundays suck. That’s my opinion and that’s fact. As per usual, I MSN with Sara for a bit but this morning it all feels like pulling teeth, sometimes it’s just no fun. I head out and get my Sunday paper but soon return to my flat for safety and warmth, I have plenty things to do today and really don’t look like to get any of them done.

First things first though, in a lack of correct order of priority, I do finally install my broadband AOL. In order to do this, I have to free up so much space it is sickening. I really don’t know why my PC is so full to the hilt but all the same it is. And it is really off-putting to think that installing broadband entails putting in a new modem. It turns out to be a real bonus when the modem turns out to be external and just slips in a USB or something. After only a couple false starts, I finally get it in, up and running. I also have to install AOL 9 meaning a leap from AOL 6 for me, so this really is a crappy brave new world. Hats off to AOL, it does turn out to be really user friendly and easy to install but the speed just isn’t all that impressive initially. I slap on Soulseek and wait for my song queue to disappear before my eyes. It doesn’t happen, if anything it now appears to take longer to download stuff. Internet through AOL does immediately appear much quicker, so I hit the porn for a bit at which point Sara comes back online asking “where did you go?� and we talk a little bit more.

Today Millwall have another Sunday game and are at home to Nottingham Forest, a real hard game even if not on paper/league positions. The team/line-up appears almost decimated from Thursday’s European game, Wise really rests most of the team and puts out a number of “reserves�. No fear though, in the end they get a really good 1-0 win.

Bored and with nothing to do, in late afternoon I find myself putting on the DVD of American Werewolf In London that I bought the other just because it is cheap. Big mistake, the movie that once scared me most in the world, now just comes over as thoroughly cheap and tacky. Upon first attempt at watching it, I just fall asleep, missing all the dream goodies and horrific images that are kinda cool. I awaken and reattempt to watch it again and once more utterly/thoroughly fail to do so again, once more falling asleep. I do however manage to wake up in time to witness old/young Jenny Agutter drag the wolf back to her plush London flat to fuck him, mere days after just meeting him. What a load of old bollocks this film is to me now, as I said old and tacky. It does however introduce me to a really fantastic Van Morrison song, that guy is growing on me in spades.

After seeing Ricky Gervais acquit himself so fantastically on TV last night around Mark’s, this afternoon I find myself on his XFM website checking out his old radio shows after going through all the radio MP3s I have listened to. His is SO fucking funny, he just laughs his arse off as the other two guys on the show (Stephen Merchant and Karl Pilkington) just verbally hang themselves, probably actually being more funny in the process but Gervais never once relinquishes the show himself. He is today’s hero for me.

As the Sunday afternoon becomes evening and it begins to get dark, I attempt to call Mark and get in touch about going to the quiz tonight. No dice, no reply on either his cellphone or home number, which I guess means he is out with his parents on his last full day/night in England before heading to Tokyo to his job. I give up on going to the quiz tonight; American Werewolf just gave me a headache, making me feel dirty in the process for wasting my time watching such aged drivel.

I stick with the Ricky Gervais audio files, have a bath and then watch some show on BBC about the World Cup 1990 semi final where England lost on penalties to Germany. It actually turns about to be a really good show after me and Mark could have been found taking the piss out of the show around his house last night.

With that programme out of the way, I settle down to watching Little Nicky on Channel Four. This film should really be the dream ticket, with Harvey Keitel, Rodney Dangerfield and Zeus The Human Wrecking Machine and all, but it’s only just OK. I remember vividly, horribly now, renting this movie in the summer of 2001 from Blockbuster and watching it at Bella’s just after we had a real big argument in Ipswich Ask restaurant. So, the movie now comes to me tainted and with baggage.

Around this point, my phone rings and it is Mark. It’s just past nine and he’s about to head to the Hogshead and wondering if I am still going. I’m actually about to head to bed, so not really now. I get the old line “would have been nice to see you before I leave� and I immediately feel shitty about not going. I wish him much luck though with the new job, still absolutely gutted that he’s going, saying all the right things to gee him up and to wish him the best.

Once done, I proceed to fall asleep watching Little Nicky, which this time I really enjoy watching.

np: Van Morrison – Moon Dance


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