Saturday, October 23, 2004

September 23 (Thursday): Giunta. No repeat of last Thursday’s bad back agony this morning thankfully. Today opens up with some very laboured MSN with Sara. I keep attempting to get out of her what those dramatic texts last night were about but really it is truly like pulling teeth. I only wind up in contact with her for a short time as she is frustratingly non-responsive.

In work, I pick up another pony job but today this one is called James Brown, which promptly causes me to text everybody I know to tell them that I am working on the accounts of the Godfather Of Soul. Kind of. Sometimes, I really am annoying.

Today I am supposed to be having lunch with Azmei and I am actually really looking forward to it but unsurprisingly she blows me out, pulling out at 12.10. I don’t get pissed off because it all comes half expected but I am disappointed because was looking forward to going out for lunch, not least for being really really hungry. Instead, in the end, I opt for a Burger King on my own (taken back to Chernobyl to stink it out/up for everyone). Tastes so good.

As I check the newspaper I read that Stoke have put in an offer for Paul Ifill. I am now officially worried, Millwall have visibly missed him this season since he got injured on the opening day of the season and with the wide gap/void Cahill has left, he really is someone that Millwall needs to hang onto in order to have a chance of doing anything this season.

In the afternoon I find myself morbidly regularly checking the news on my phone, to see if Mr Ken Bigley has yet been executed. Personally it seems to me that people are itching for the inevitable to happen in order to have a reason/opportunity to sound off, it is as they are looking to use this as a route to kicking off. I do find it really weird how the reaction to his capture differs completely to the capture and beheading of the two Americans taken hostage with him at the same time. Needless to say, despite my repeated checks Mr Bigley lives to fight another day.

Tensions hit heights in Chernobyl as Stevo keeps flying at me and is now accusing me of being a pervert because I said I fancied the Chinese lady that lives opposite our office. Nothing wrong in that except that she is off pension age like Stevo. Ho ho. Whatever though, if it annoys him, I’ll pick up the ball and run with it. And the crazy Chinese lady is really funny, the way she waddles up and down the road in her old Burberry coat, peering over her glasses at everything and shouting conversations. Then again, I might just be talking myself into fancying her. Has he never seen Harold And Maude?

I also spend an extended period this afternoon why Cat Stevens is actually cool (he is in the news today because he has just been prevented from entering the USA). For the record, Cat Stevens is cool/hip because of his involvement in the soundtrack for Harold And Maude. His otherwise, drippy, wet, dull folk songs really gain a dark air to them for the passionate images, visuals and meanings they accompany in Harold And Maude. However, trying to explain this to people who have never seen the film and actually probably not even heard a dozen Cat Stevens songs themselves, well, its mission unaccomplished on my part.

And when I get in, more entertainment news when I read on the Guided By Voices email list Postal Blowfish reports the death of Russ Meyer. It doesn’t exactly come out of the blue, the bloke hasn’t made a film in thirty year but its still a drag all the same, his films could actually be pretty ace.

Before I am able to makes moves, Bella hits me on MSN and when I tell her I’m going to class, she wonders just what on earth I am talking about. I explain to her that I am doing an English course to which she generally reacts “cool� and I am currently bigging it up to her.

I eventually get going, going to class. This is week three but only my second and already I feel a little bit like an outcast, everyone seems to be buddying up after two weeks. Teacher however is cool and when I explain to her that I was absent last week because I was at Millwall, she tells me that her boyfriend is a Millwall fan too. Cool! I really like teacher, she is very cool, even if she is dressed like Austin Powers (kind of) this week. I get the hand outs from last week and they were doing poems by Whitman and Ginsberg! I missed out poems I actually know. This week however we appear to be continuing to batter Christina Rossetti to death again. At break time, we venture downstairs and I knock about with Emma. After break, we continue and I look around at my class mates and decide that I really don’t like any of them. Still, I get a big kick when halfway through a spiel about some poem or other, teacher stops dead and looks at me in my Millwall polo shirt and goes “god, you’re a Millwall shirt. I know the Millwall song, my boyfriend made me learn their song� and she promptly sings the first few lines of Let ‘Em Come at me.

When I leave the class though, I do feel headfucked by it all so I head to Asda to buy dinner. When I get in I find myself on MSN with Bella once more, which only serves to headfuck me further, with me asking her “have you been online all this time?�. Affirmative.

Just before I left tonight, like an idiot I left my window open and I only return to about half a dozen daddy long legs all in my bedroom, all buzzing around and attacking me. I takes me forever to get rid of the fuckers.

np: Sum 41 – In Too Deep


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