And then… (from 7th Jun 05)
February 24, 2009 at 3:08 pm | In Migrated 20six stuff | Leave a CommentTags: cat, cat anxiety, cinema idiots, house mates, idiots
Poor old cat; Branston, is self harming. Patches of fur pulled out all over her. The vet says to my Mum that you can buy a plug in “cat chill out” thingy to de stress cats. Wow, what a thing! Anyhow, poor tiny old cat, best wishes Branston old friend, old buddy, old pal…
…Going through another house mate transition yet again, the most stressful of things. I will try and remain out of things as much as possible except meeting the people. whenever any of us advertise we always receive loads of calls/emails from people who DON’T READ THE ADVERT. It clearly says that the room is available from the 8th July onwards and people always say to us “but I need somewhere sooner”. Then read the advert properly and leave us alone. What do they think will happen? Should we forcibly remove the existing flatmate to make way for someone who can’t read? Idiot idiot idiots…
…More idiots are people who (as pointed out by Phil) point at the cinema screen when talking to their friend about what is on screen. Why fucking point? I’m sure that your companion grasps that the massive screen being indicated is in front of them. It’s not like you go to the cinema and start looking round for where the film might be being projected. “I went to watch a film the other day it was boring but then I found out that I had been staring at the back wall of the theatre for the entire thing, boy do I feel stupid. Someone should have pointed for me”.
Films seen in last week;
The Village – I like.
Sin City – Stupidly good fun (but still stupid), and very very violent.
Layer Cake – Fairly good, more like an old school gangster film but with a lot less heart than The Long Good Friday or Get Carter. Probably because nothing of any note is ever revealed about the lead role and so I can’t say that I cared one bit for him, or anyone else in the film. But decent enough plot.
I dream of dreaming
October 23, 2008 at 5:22 pm | In Uncategorized | Leave a CommentTags: cat, dreams, driving, lost, pickle
My poor old departed cat, Pickle, was back last night. She was strapped into the passenger seat of the car after we picked her up from a concrete London NCP and then drove just north of Oxford Street, through the grotty business mews’ towards some main road.
I do not know where we were going but when we reached the main road junction I opened the door and tried to whisk Pickle out thinking that she would be able to get home of, at least, to somewhere safe. I pointed up the road towards Fox’s flat and said that she could stay there. She was not impressed and would not budge from her seat.
I didn’t think cats liked car journeys.
OK, you can stay with us old friend.
Where were we driving? Off into the night, heading the wrong direction for ending up at home but finding ourselves there anyway. I will try to fall asleep to a record, a covers album by some American band, not Yo La Tengo but similar. Something that can be played quietly and will influence my dreams. So much of my old music at my parents place, I thought I had lost it all but I can not take it with me because there is no room where I live.
My brother needs to sleep, what am I doing in the bed? I tell him to try the other room.
I have a bath?
I sleep through the day and the next day and all weekend and I realise that I missed 2 days of work. It is Monday morning and I now am officially on holiday. I do not want to leave home and go back to London.
It is a dream of loss. I have lost something, many things, I guess.
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