So, I expect you're dying to discover how done my 'things to do' are:
- Actually get the leaky ceiling fixed before the whole damn thing comes down on my head.
Hopefully should have been properly sorted out today. The wizened old landlord couple came round to look at it, said "Oh yes, we thought this might happen" (cheers) and sprayed something into the hot-water tank that made subsequent baths and shower smell horribly chemical and cause one's head to swim. However, we were due to have a plumber come over anyway, and hopefully he's been today and sorted that shit out.
- Get my mobile phone fixed or replaced, as it seems to have decided to stop charging up.
Got it replaced. No problem. The new one's quite cute, have some funky features (including the ability to compose your own ring tones) and comes with games, so I've got something to do on the toilet at work...
I also got my Mum and step-dad to buy me a new minidisc player. My last one broke, but fortunately I only really needed it on long commutes to and from work, to help me get into and out of the right nihilistic, numbed mind-set, and luckily it broke just before I started this job, where the commute is short and I can play music through my PC to moderate my mood. Still, it's really good to have one again. My life has a soundtrack once more.
- Try fixing my laptop. I managed to fix it last time whilst half-drunk using a screwdriver heated on the stove as an impromptu soldering iron. This time I actually have a soldering iron and solder, so it should be a piece of piss.
Not yet. Maybe tonight...
- Chill wit' my housemates. Seems like ages since I've done that, what with Jo being round, Caption to run and shit.
Done OK here. Well, I've chatted to Archie a bit, and we've teamed up to fuck with Lorna's mind. It's interaction... She has recently revealed that she was the one behind the mysterious disappearance of our toilet brush last year, an event that had gone down in house legend as profoundly puzzling up until this point. We couldn't imagine what motive anyone could have for such an act; which was foolish, in retrospect. I have no idea why our suspicions took so long to fall upon the inhabitant that is profoundly squeamish about many aspects of every-day bodily biology, and has hygene issues that are frankly weird (and take it from me, you don't want further details). Apparently she threw the brush away in a fit of horror about what she had done to it (again, be thankful that you are being spared the details). This incident has apparently successfully removed (it remains to be seen how permanently) whatever qualms I had about freaking her out for my entertainment. Archie is normally the ring-leader in this, but I took a more active role last night, and I have to say: it was fun. Perhaps once she owns up to the other wrongs which she has dealt me, I will start feeling mercy for her once more. Perhaps. Until then... 'Pink suitcase, Lorna'
- Have interesting experiences/thoughts to share with you, Dear Reader.
Disturbing dreams and sadism will do, won't they? Oh, and I've been round to help Archie resocialise his caree, which duty I perform by watching stuff she's videoed (South Park, Futurama, Cleopatra 2525) and drinking her alcohol (cheap red wine and expensive gin). Most agreeable.
New things to do:
- Actually write some comedy with Archie.
- Actually fix my PC.
- Arrange whether I'm going to a gig this weekend, and when I'm going to visit Jo (for such is my obligation).
- Tell my mates about Laurie Anderson playing in London in October, and try to arrange an outing. (Shit, my schedule's filling up. This is not my style. I hate only having weekends free to do big stuff.)
- Help my housemates tidy the house.
- Watch 'Planet of the Apes.'
- Phone my sister.
- Forgive Lorna(?)
Autobiographical fact #9:
My parent divorced when I was 7, and my sister was 4. They both still live in London (where I grew up with my Mum), both remarried ages ago, and my Dad's given me a half-brother called Oliver who's now 12. I was disturbed to find that I have influence over him, like a kind of role-model-type-thing, because I don't really feel cut out for that; but I'm pretty sure that my influence over him is fairly minimal, as I've never actually lived with him or anything. He's cool. Clever and he's got a good sense of humour. Sadly, he's getting to the point where he can beat me at computer games, and hence I suspect his respect for me will start nose-diving.
My sister's doing English at university in Cambridge (though not actually at the famous one), and seems to be doing alright for herself, in a stoner student way. I'm jealous. She's just moved into a flat with her boyfriend, which is a shit-sight braver than me. I hated her until just before I went to university, when she realised that it was a lot more fun to annoy my mum and step-dad instead of me, and we realised that we had very similar musical tastes and senses of humour. She's cool too. Not seen her for a couple of months now. Best phone her, I guess.
Current Web-site: Satire Wire