22 September 2006

Friday round up

Introduction
Friday’s post is becoming a bit of a summary covering many of the recent misfortunes to have befallen me, and the triumphs to have caught me unawares. So, although I am in danger of instituting a tradition, I shall crack on with the summary of where I am at or thereabouts for you.

Reading
I have finished the Bullet Trick. Hoorah. I am fully intending to write a measured and thoughtful review to make up for my previous petulance but I have shoved it on the bookshelf and each attempt to pick it up again results in an enormous wave of sorrow crashing down upon me, dashing me against the rocks of righteous indignation and feverish disappointment.

Televisual confusion
I was messing about with my camera last night and so didn’t plonk myself in front of the television until quarter to ten. I popped on BBC 1, even though I am Cross With The BBC At The Moment, and was most confused to find myself watching a docudrama where Tony Blair was extolling his own virtues as a God in a rather angsty fashion. Then, imagine my amazement, he confessed to having killed people and done all kinds of terrible things. Remarkable I thought. Then he, or perhaps it was Gordon or Claire, stuck a knife up through his chin and it made a noise exactly like when you crack Ice Magic with a spoon. At least I think that what happened with the knife and the chin. I have finely honed reflexes for that kind of thing so was already well under the sofa with my fingers over my ears and my thumbs in my eyes singing Yellow Submarine very loudly to avoid any TV gore induced trauma. Anyway, it transpired that it was not actually a sequel to The Deal but the same actor playing Nero, of the Roman Empire. I did wonder about the togas but thought that may be down to some strange Mandleson/ Campbell/ Blair Greco-Roman wrestling tournament. I think Martin Sheen is his name. He’s not related to Gloria Estefan either.

Football
We have discovered that the team that lost the final of the womens’ five-a-side football tournament had reached the final in the three previous years and so now feel less bad about the sound trouncing we received. Although I can’t even begin to talk about the winners yet. Bitches.

Annoying crazy people
The Mad Man Who Lives Up The Road has a new personality to add to the veritable post office queue he has already accumulated. I shall call her Fanny. She is very irritating with an incredibly loud high pitched voice and grave concerns about her job security. She fears the sack, she fears the sack, she fears the sack, she fears the sack. Perhaps Fanny would perform a little better at work if she didn’t spent most of her time walking up and down my street screeching. I preferred Clive the Librarian. He used to rearrange the shelves in the library and hide the Ruth Rendell’s in the back of the cookery section. I liked him. The library staff liked him less though he meant they had to do some Work. Heaven forfend.

Outrage
I inadvertently left Sad Little Clancy’s door unlocked for three nights and no one stole her, slept in her, pissed in her or threw rubbish in her. I am outraged. The Subaru up the road went like a hot cake. I think I will buy Sad Little Clancy a spoiler and a neon racing stripe.

Most importantly
Bambino Bamboo is four months old today. Happy sortofbirthday [exclamation mark] She’s doing lots of interesting things and being adorable but this is the round up post so there’ll be no more of that.

And there we are. Vaarwel, gentle reader.

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