(no subject)
It's been a while since I had anything approaching a hangover. I had forgotten that it makes me totally vacant all day. Mel is having to wait for a reply to anything she says while my brain whirrs and clicks. Come to think of it, this entry is having to wait while I process the necessary information.
My mother is getting rid of a lot of her furniture now she lives in a smaller place, so we are now the proud owner of an eight foot tall wrought iron plant stand. The only opinion i've had so far is "doesn't Lawrence of Arabia want it back?" Which is pretty much the desired effect. I must find out what an aspidistra looks like.
Today was spent charity shopping in a place where lots of students live. Naturally there wasn't a massive haul to be had, although I did finally find The Moon's a Balloon, for the princely sum of fifty pence. Amusing anecdote: Mel was once told that in Belgium it was called The Moon's a Walloon and she believed him. Not as good as when I told her about the Pope's hollow multi-leg bronze decision making throne. I now feel obliged to declare that Mel once told me that 50 Cent's real name is Arthur Dollar. I believed that.
We just watched Napoleon Dynamite. The image that really burns on to my mind is the constantly tucked in T-shirt. Maybe i'll beat fashion by fifteen years and start tucking mine in right here and now. Why do kids have their trousers falling off their arses when those who really like to keep on top of shifts in popular dress could effortlessly beat the crowd to the only future option, which has to be hiking them right up?