As the hit counter tips the 11,000 mark thanks to Dan Bryan's legion of elderly fans (ah, that well constructed newspaper column that I thought went unread has, it seems, caused blood to boil) I'm feeling my way into this script and getting to know the characters I'll be living with for the next few months. It's not really pouring out of me in the way that I'd hoped, but the lunch time treat we indulged ourselves in at a pub up the road was very nice indeed so at least the day's not been a complete waste. In fact, I feel physically sick, and thus I bask in a Charles Bukowski-like vomit down the shirt glow.
Fox hunting ban seemed to fail miserably. What is it with these upper class twits that makes them think that they're above the law? When I'm ramming a shotgun under their noses in protest I wonder how they'll react when I tell them that the legislation that might otherwise save their lives is unenforceable? The fact remains that the red-coated, Beagle 'n' horse rampaging imbeciles are nothing more than bloodthirsty killers. Let's hope that Mistress Fate and sidekick Mistress Karma have a grueome end in store for all of them.
Pseudo intellectual consumption... Still reading: Ryu Murakami - In The Miso Soup. Tracks of the day: The Bravery - Fearless, Sonic Youth - Ca Plane Pour Moi (cover). Advance delight: Kaiser Chiefs - Employment. Cripes, an enjoyable musical: Spittin' Distance.
No comments:
Post a Comment