Thursday, June 28, 2007
I am supposed to be reading the next Terry Pratchett "Discworld" novel, but instead I've been been reading Keith Allen's autobiography "Grow Up". It was an impulse buy, in hardback, even though I vowed not less than a week ago that impulse buys were definitely out of the question for the foreseeable future, seeing as I have very little actual fucking money. Despite the fact that I am nearly half way through it, and he has yet to have any dealings with anybody famous, it is a really funny read. Well worth the money.
Some might disagree, but I think Keith Allen is a great talent. "Gino: Full Story And Pics" is still my favourite of the "Comic Strip" series. His documentary "Keith Allen Will Burn In Hell", shown last week on Channel 4, about the activities of the Westboro Baptist Church (purveyors of the insanity of this website and this website), is an absolute classic. They should show it in schools.
********
The UK has been having a bit of rain.
(You don't say. I do say!)
I shouldn't make light of it. People have died and houses have been wrecked. It's been difficult for a lot of people. Where I live, it is easy for me to shrug my shoulders and say "It's a shame, but so what?" I have never been flooded out. (I don't count the water leak in 2002, although I have never entered the kitchen since without checking the ceiling.) I suppose my house must be on higher ground.
I got a small lesson in the effect of the flooding when visiting the Midlands Art Centre last Sunday to see a film. There was a small sign at reception which said something like this.
"We apologize for any inconvenience caused by last week's closure of the cinema. The closure was due to massive flooding in Cannon Hill Park and the subsequent flooding of the cinema. Patrons may notice, at present, a damp smell in the cinema and we wish to apologise for this. We are told that the smell will abate in time and beg for your patience and understanding."
(Lovely note, by the way. Very sincere.)
I had a walk around the park and witnessed some of the attempts to limit the devastation of the week before. (God knows what it is like now. The rain started up again, this week.) It had been tidied up, but there were sandbags and mud and shit everywhere. The lake looks like it had burst it's banks. You could see the marks on the ground.
If I ever seriously got flooded out I would freak. I don't like water where it shouldn't be. I especially wouldn't like water in my living room or by my TV or computer. Water belongs in taps, sinks and baths. And the Ocean.
********
There are a lot of squirrels in Cannon Hill Park. Very skinny squirrels. I get a lot of squirrels in my back garden. It is not unknown for six or seven of the buggers to caper about my back garden, having a laugh, stealing the seed and nuts I put out every week for the poor, starving little birdies. Every single one of the squirrels in my back garden are fat.
(How fat are squirrels supposed to be? I don't know.)
In Cannon Hill Park I witnessed a teenage girl trying to entice a squirrel to eat some crisps. She had put the crisps on the ground, had stepped away and was making clicking noises with her tounge. The squirrel was having none of it. He was halfway up a tree giving the girl the evil eye. The girl's boyfriend, standing behind her, looked at me and I looked at him. He shrugged and gave me a look that spoke volumes.
Silly cow, is what the look said.
********
I had not eaten and I was hungry. There was time before the film started, so I went to the Midlands Art Centre restaurant, ordered a bowl of chilli, chips and rice and sat eating it. A lady and a guy came in with a young baby. The guy ordered food and they sat down. The lady undid her blouse, took off her bra, prepped a nipple and started breast feeding the baby.
I stared. I don't think I was the only one who stared. Eventually I decided not to be so fucking rude and concentrated on my bowl of food.
This is the 21st century. A woman feeding her child in a perfectly natural way in a public place should not be of any interest at all, but it is. I don't know why it is.
True, maybe I would have been less inclined to look if she had not been a gorgeous redhead with shoulder length hair, green eyes, full red lips, creamy pale skin, great tits and wearing the kind of peasant blouse that has turned me on since I saw Linda Hayden wearing one in "Blood On Satan's Claw" when I was about 14.
Shallow. That's me.
********
More tomorrow.
Some might disagree, but I think Keith Allen is a great talent. "Gino: Full Story And Pics" is still my favourite of the "Comic Strip" series. His documentary "Keith Allen Will Burn In Hell", shown last week on Channel 4, about the activities of the Westboro Baptist Church (purveyors of the insanity of this website and this website), is an absolute classic. They should show it in schools.
********
The UK has been having a bit of rain.
(You don't say. I do say!)
I shouldn't make light of it. People have died and houses have been wrecked. It's been difficult for a lot of people. Where I live, it is easy for me to shrug my shoulders and say "It's a shame, but so what?" I have never been flooded out. (I don't count the water leak in 2002, although I have never entered the kitchen since without checking the ceiling.) I suppose my house must be on higher ground.
I got a small lesson in the effect of the flooding when visiting the Midlands Art Centre last Sunday to see a film. There was a small sign at reception which said something like this.
"We apologize for any inconvenience caused by last week's closure of the cinema. The closure was due to massive flooding in Cannon Hill Park and the subsequent flooding of the cinema. Patrons may notice, at present, a damp smell in the cinema and we wish to apologise for this. We are told that the smell will abate in time and beg for your patience and understanding."
(Lovely note, by the way. Very sincere.)
I had a walk around the park and witnessed some of the attempts to limit the devastation of the week before. (God knows what it is like now. The rain started up again, this week.) It had been tidied up, but there were sandbags and mud and shit everywhere. The lake looks like it had burst it's banks. You could see the marks on the ground.
If I ever seriously got flooded out I would freak. I don't like water where it shouldn't be. I especially wouldn't like water in my living room or by my TV or computer. Water belongs in taps, sinks and baths. And the Ocean.
********
There are a lot of squirrels in Cannon Hill Park. Very skinny squirrels. I get a lot of squirrels in my back garden. It is not unknown for six or seven of the buggers to caper about my back garden, having a laugh, stealing the seed and nuts I put out every week for the poor, starving little birdies. Every single one of the squirrels in my back garden are fat.
(How fat are squirrels supposed to be? I don't know.)
In Cannon Hill Park I witnessed a teenage girl trying to entice a squirrel to eat some crisps. She had put the crisps on the ground, had stepped away and was making clicking noises with her tounge. The squirrel was having none of it. He was halfway up a tree giving the girl the evil eye. The girl's boyfriend, standing behind her, looked at me and I looked at him. He shrugged and gave me a look that spoke volumes.
Silly cow, is what the look said.
********
I had not eaten and I was hungry. There was time before the film started, so I went to the Midlands Art Centre restaurant, ordered a bowl of chilli, chips and rice and sat eating it. A lady and a guy came in with a young baby. The guy ordered food and they sat down. The lady undid her blouse, took off her bra, prepped a nipple and started breast feeding the baby.
I stared. I don't think I was the only one who stared. Eventually I decided not to be so fucking rude and concentrated on my bowl of food.
This is the 21st century. A woman feeding her child in a perfectly natural way in a public place should not be of any interest at all, but it is. I don't know why it is.
True, maybe I would have been less inclined to look if she had not been a gorgeous redhead with shoulder length hair, green eyes, full red lips, creamy pale skin, great tits and wearing the kind of peasant blouse that has turned me on since I saw Linda Hayden wearing one in "Blood On Satan's Claw" when I was about 14.
Shallow. That's me.
********
More tomorrow.
Labels: Reading, Sex, Squirrels, Weather
Friday, February 09, 2007
I met a Girl this evening. Her name was Lisabeth.
By about 4pm this afternoon the weather in Birmingham started getting really bad, so The Company started letting people go home early. Being a saint I elected to stay, as I wasn't limited to options to get home (one bus doesn't turn up, another will at some point), but at 5pm I had had enough and left.
The bus shelter was overflowing with people. I reckon there must have been 20 people in the bus shelter and 10 people outside. I squeezed in from one end of the bus shelter and a Girl, I'd seen before many times as she gets the same bus as me, squeezed in after me. We shared a nod.
A bus came. 30 people got on. The Girl and I looked at each other. We were alone in the bus shelter.
"That's better", she said.
"Sure is", I said.
And we started talking. It was half an hour before our bus came. When we got on (ladies first, obviously) we went to the top deck, sat together and carried on talking. You can learn a lot in 2 hours.
Her name is Lisabeth. She comes from Austria. She has a lovely accent. She speaks perfect English. She studied English at school, but said that her spoken English improved dramatically once she started to work in the UK. She sometimes has trouble understanding the Irish and Scottish accent, but has no problem with the full blown Brummie accent. She works as a Credit Controller, not far from where I work. She likes her job. She has lived in London and Glasgow, but likes Birmingham better. She has worked all over Europe, but settled in the UK 6 years ago. She has a boyfriend, who she hardly sees because of the hours that both of them work. She seemed to be very smart.
She is mid 20's, shorter than me, dark haired, has green/grey eyes, perfect teeth and is curvy and pretty. Her hair was wet from the snow and I suggested that she invest in a woolly hat. That made her laugh. She had some blue eye makeup on, but it had run a little because of the water. I had to resist the temptation to wipe it off her face with my thumb. She was wearing an amazing woollen brown coat, black boots and dark trousers.
Oh, yes. Nearly forgot. I wanted her. I wanted her very badly. I felt lightheaded and breathless. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I wanted to stroke her hair and kiss her and hold her and tell her that I loved her. I wanted to hold her hand, walk around with her and show her off to everybody. I wanted her.
I feel awful.
I know that this, whatever this is, is utter nonsense. I do not for one minute think that this is love at first sight, and that tomorrow I will be telling Lorraine that we are all over. I know that this is all about my being on my own for the week, eating badly, over tiredness because I've not been sleeping and my worries about where Lorraine and I are going. This kind of thunderbolt does not happen to me.
I miss my friend Vicky. Lisabeth looked a bit like Vicky.
I am probably coming across badly. Fuck it. This is not me in a good light, but I promised to be honest on this blog.
How am I going to face Lorraine tomorrow, when I pick her up from New Street Station? My face will betray me. It's got to.
By about 4pm this afternoon the weather in Birmingham started getting really bad, so The Company started letting people go home early. Being a saint I elected to stay, as I wasn't limited to options to get home (one bus doesn't turn up, another will at some point), but at 5pm I had had enough and left.
The bus shelter was overflowing with people. I reckon there must have been 20 people in the bus shelter and 10 people outside. I squeezed in from one end of the bus shelter and a Girl, I'd seen before many times as she gets the same bus as me, squeezed in after me. We shared a nod.
A bus came. 30 people got on. The Girl and I looked at each other. We were alone in the bus shelter.
"That's better", she said.
"Sure is", I said.
And we started talking. It was half an hour before our bus came. When we got on (ladies first, obviously) we went to the top deck, sat together and carried on talking. You can learn a lot in 2 hours.
Her name is Lisabeth. She comes from Austria. She has a lovely accent. She speaks perfect English. She studied English at school, but said that her spoken English improved dramatically once she started to work in the UK. She sometimes has trouble understanding the Irish and Scottish accent, but has no problem with the full blown Brummie accent. She works as a Credit Controller, not far from where I work. She likes her job. She has lived in London and Glasgow, but likes Birmingham better. She has worked all over Europe, but settled in the UK 6 years ago. She has a boyfriend, who she hardly sees because of the hours that both of them work. She seemed to be very smart.
She is mid 20's, shorter than me, dark haired, has green/grey eyes, perfect teeth and is curvy and pretty. Her hair was wet from the snow and I suggested that she invest in a woolly hat. That made her laugh. She had some blue eye makeup on, but it had run a little because of the water. I had to resist the temptation to wipe it off her face with my thumb. She was wearing an amazing woollen brown coat, black boots and dark trousers.
Oh, yes. Nearly forgot. I wanted her. I wanted her very badly. I felt lightheaded and breathless. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I wanted to stroke her hair and kiss her and hold her and tell her that I loved her. I wanted to hold her hand, walk around with her and show her off to everybody. I wanted her.
I feel awful.
I know that this, whatever this is, is utter nonsense. I do not for one minute think that this is love at first sight, and that tomorrow I will be telling Lorraine that we are all over. I know that this is all about my being on my own for the week, eating badly, over tiredness because I've not been sleeping and my worries about where Lorraine and I are going. This kind of thunderbolt does not happen to me.
I miss my friend Vicky. Lisabeth looked a bit like Vicky.
I am probably coming across badly. Fuck it. This is not me in a good light, but I promised to be honest on this blog.
How am I going to face Lorraine tomorrow, when I pick her up from New Street Station? My face will betray me. It's got to.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
(With apologies to Rik Mayall.)
Snow...
All around.
Sometimes up.
Sometimes down.
But always... Around.
Snow.
Are you coming to my town?
Er... Yes. Actually snow has come to my town, but I'm one of lucky ones. The snow has hardly affected me at all. This morning the bus almost came on time, but the roads were very quiet and I arrived early at work. (Something I always try to avoid doing. Ha ha.) I went for my walk at lunchtime. It was slow going, but I wasn't late getting back. Most people with young kids had to leave early, followed by everybody who had reasonably long commutes, as there dark rumours of more snow on the way. I left on time, got the bus on time, was home on time. No worries. The heating in the house has been extended, to avoid any nonsense with burst pipes, but other than that, no change to my routine at all.
Wasn't that boring?
I was around on the net last night, and I could have posted, but exactly what was there to say?
That my "Brothers Of The Head" DVD arrived? (My first DVD purchase of the year. It's a great film and you should check it out. I'll be watching it tomorrow night.)
That I had a heart attack special for tea? (Sausage, bacon, eggs and toast.)
That I watched the England football team embarrass themselves again? (A guy at work is convinced that Steve McClaren has been stitched up and will be out of the England job before the end of the year. I don't believe any such thing. Why stitch the guy up? OK, perhaps they didn't get the guy they wanted initially, but don't the mandarins of the F.A. want Steve McClaren and England to do well? I also believe that even if we do not qualify for Euro 2008, Steve McClaren will be given the chance to lead England to World Cup 2010. Perhaps England are just in one of their cyclic downturns? It's pretty common. In 3/5 years time we could be in the semi-finals of World Cup 2010/Euro 2012. We've done it before after a bad run.)
That I copied fine music by the Sugababes and Bill Withers onto my MP3 player? (And also a double album called "The Best Disco Album In The World... Ever", which is not nearly as grim as it sounds.)
That I miss Lorraine desperately, sex or no sex? (I hate being in this house on my own.)
That was yesterday evening.
This evening, another heart attack special (eggs, sausage and chips - I'm not telling Lorraine, unless she asks me -she would be horrified), fell asleep on the settee, woke up, watched "Bonkers" (which is a pretty typical ITV Thursday evening, housewife in crisis comedy and isn't too terrible), looked for the Television X freeview on cable (which has gone, maybe because Virgin Media have put a stop to such nonsense) and came up here to share some thoughts.
I have earworms to write up for Swiss Toni. I may be gone some time.
Be cool.
Snow...
All around.
Sometimes up.
Sometimes down.
But always... Around.
Snow.
Are you coming to my town?
Er... Yes. Actually snow has come to my town, but I'm one of lucky ones. The snow has hardly affected me at all. This morning the bus almost came on time, but the roads were very quiet and I arrived early at work. (Something I always try to avoid doing. Ha ha.) I went for my walk at lunchtime. It was slow going, but I wasn't late getting back. Most people with young kids had to leave early, followed by everybody who had reasonably long commutes, as there dark rumours of more snow on the way. I left on time, got the bus on time, was home on time. No worries. The heating in the house has been extended, to avoid any nonsense with burst pipes, but other than that, no change to my routine at all.
Wasn't that boring?
I was around on the net last night, and I could have posted, but exactly what was there to say?
That my "Brothers Of The Head" DVD arrived? (My first DVD purchase of the year. It's a great film and you should check it out. I'll be watching it tomorrow night.)
That I had a heart attack special for tea? (Sausage, bacon, eggs and toast.)
That I watched the England football team embarrass themselves again? (A guy at work is convinced that Steve McClaren has been stitched up and will be out of the England job before the end of the year. I don't believe any such thing. Why stitch the guy up? OK, perhaps they didn't get the guy they wanted initially, but don't the mandarins of the F.A. want Steve McClaren and England to do well? I also believe that even if we do not qualify for Euro 2008, Steve McClaren will be given the chance to lead England to World Cup 2010. Perhaps England are just in one of their cyclic downturns? It's pretty common. In 3/5 years time we could be in the semi-finals of World Cup 2010/Euro 2012. We've done it before after a bad run.)
That I copied fine music by the Sugababes and Bill Withers onto my MP3 player? (And also a double album called "The Best Disco Album In The World... Ever", which is not nearly as grim as it sounds.)
That I miss Lorraine desperately, sex or no sex? (I hate being in this house on my own.)
That was yesterday evening.
This evening, another heart attack special (eggs, sausage and chips - I'm not telling Lorraine, unless she asks me -she would be horrified), fell asleep on the settee, woke up, watched "Bonkers" (which is a pretty typical ITV Thursday evening, housewife in crisis comedy and isn't too terrible), looked for the Television X freeview on cable (which has gone, maybe because Virgin Media have put a stop to such nonsense) and came up here to share some thoughts.
I have earworms to write up for Swiss Toni. I may be gone some time.
Be cool.
Labels: Food, Football, Lorraine, Movies, Television, Weather
