Saturday, October 23, 2004

September 25 (Saturday): Gismonte. Slow getting started this morning. Sara jumps on me early on MSN, straight from Dubai, on a weekend at work. I manage to actually do some writing, hoping to get my blog up to date but it doesn’t happen.

Eventually I manage to get around to leaving home and heading for Clacton at around 12.30. I stop off at the Layer Road store to buy newspapers but the fuckers have run out of Suns so I have to pop to Asda to get one instead and this is my ultimate downfall. When did the car park in Asda on a Saturday become so fucking chock-a-block? I get my Sun and proceed to spend over half an hour stuck in traffic within the car park not moving a sausage.

My intentions, as sad as they are, were originally to get home for 2pm to catch the first of three episodes of Relic Hunter on Sky today. I fucking fail in all attempts, it eventually takes me almost two hours just to get from Colchester to Clacton (Holland-on-Sea). Loser.

When I get home, no one is in, my parents are to be found up in Colchester house hunting so its just me and the dog. Relic Hunter is well into its episode so I don’t bother with it, instead I jump back on MSN and continue with Sara going “blah blah blah� with a guest appearance by Bella who actually is nowhere near as interesting or exciting as Sara sadly. I tell Sara how I would like to move home after raiding my parents cupboards and fridge; “they have food and Sky and the dog and warmth and its tidy�. Sara however adds the sobering fact: “if you move back home, you will never pull�.

Today Snowy is really dozey and he keeps sloping off, away from me back into his basket. He can no longer jump onto any of our furniture (ie no chairs nor sofas) so I give him a hand and pick him up and put him onto the sofa. Snowy hates being picked up/carried/lifted, so when I do so he next to flies at me when I drop him off. Still, he sticks on the sofa and sleeps the remainder of the afternoon away, not even murmuring when I rejoin him on the sofa to watch the second episode of Relic Hunter.

I get bored and begin reading my Hulk Hogan autobiography I bought on Wednesday and it turns out to sadly be the most interesting book that I have picked up in a long while. When my parents come in, I am actually enthralled in the book and really don’t want to speak to them for wanting more Hulkamania, which only sees me grunting at them like Kevin Teenager when confronted with conversation. Well, did you know that Hulk Hogan almost became a regular on the A-Team to act as a go-between for Mr T and George Peppard who apparently hated eachother as Mr T earned more than the others combined but couldn’t act for beans.

Today Millwall only manage a 1-1 draw at Rotherham after losing the lead late on. Ordinarily, letting in Rotherham’s first goal for 11 hours and only their third goal all season would generally be seen as a failure and/or bad result but Millwall have this recent memory thing about Rotherham for the 92/93 first day home drubbing of 6-0. So now these days, any result against Rotherham is a good result. Rotherham and Gillingham can be currently be regarded as bogey sides.

Mark texts me about hanging out but I tell him unfortunately I can’t as I am at my parents but we should definitely hook up tomorrow.

I MSN again with Sara, fairly late into the night for a Saturday, she is still chocka with work in Dubai it seems and she is about to be heading to Australia on business for a month (lifestyles of the rich and their accountants I guess). Before she logs off we have some final thoughts-esqe discussion which all gets kind of emo when its based along the lines of “it’s a surprise we have stayed friends� kind of stuff. You could be mistaken for thinking there is some really meaning in all this somewhere.

I eventually make moves for heading home, listening to a soundtrack of Radio 2 on a Saturday night (although Westwood on Saturday generally gives good head also). It is a really fantastic station playing fantastic movie, Stuart Macconie hosting some show playing rarities mixed with Nick Cave, Tom Waits and the Kinks. When I get in, I continue with Radio 2 who are broadcasting the most fantastic documentary about Jeff Buckley.

At 10pm, I ditch the radio (which I can hear on repeat/replay online anyway) and begin watching Pleasantville. I beginning to develop a real thing for Reese Witherspoon and it frightens me, especially when I find myself looking at girls these days and going “her X looks like Reese Witherspoon�. Fortunately I fall asleep early during the movie and there ends another exciting Saturday night in the life of Jason Graham.

np: Jeff Buckley - Grace


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