This, too ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh, while I'm here: note to self: raize Adelaide Lately, I recovered my Kafka, but Voltaire was nowhere to be seen, and Camus was drunkenly snatched from my hands with a dribbling, "mhhNO! 'venotFINISHEDthatone!" or something. "I've never felt so fucking sober..." Brother and I were compelled to say such to one another, that recent night. Two-for-one jugs (of beer) can do funny things to chefs. Funny from my perspective, anyway, but then I wasn't the one being spat on. It's half one, and I should be sleeping, since I stayed up all last night to watch the cricket final. Bah. I'd barely time to finish typing my MSN personal message dealy before the outcome was evident. "Come On, Shri Lamka Prajatantrika Samajaya di Janarajaya! Or, if you prefer, Come On, Ilankai Jananayaka Choshalichak Kutiyarachu! Ah, bollocks, is that going for six?" Anyway, enough of that. Look at this place. Dusty, eh? Wandering around D'land, I have been reminded of probably my favourite Clairequote to date: "Don't look at me in that tone of voice! I've seen snow!" Too much clutter in the head, at the moment. Too many attempts to explain, educate, learn, in fields that aren't actually going to help any involved party, myself included. I still can't believe that I had to explain that while, no, Mugabe isn't an honest to goodness Fascist, it isn't soley because he's black. The implication that Benito and Francisco are Germanic names seems to have sapped a large part of my will to leave this chair. Fuck off, Dave! Sorry, the cat's trying to get in, again. Cat claws on glass, lovely at all hours of the night. Today was all about running into people in unexpected context, which always throws me off, especially when they're wasted and kissy and stuff. Tomorrow is all about cafes. Later this week I'm off to some mysterious address -so far it does appear to be pretty much a car park- for some mysterious reason. Probably I won't come back. Right now is all about realising that, even if I feel as if I've -annoyingly enough- passed the need for sleep, my brain is operating far below capacity, and that, accordingly, this update is a shambolic disgrace to the shambolic excuse for expression that is the blogsphere. What am I to do about that? I dunno, I just walked into Balaclava and back, for no reason, I'm tired. Oh. 1:19 a.m. - 2007-04-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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