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They say every man goes blind in his heart
On 2002-07-05 at 2:13 p.m.... My elbows hurt quite a lot. We've been decorating ceaselessly, and now we have varnished floorboards and bare walls which makes for REALLY GOOD ACOUSTICS, especially when one staggers in at three in the morning and wakes everyone else in the house. Also, we've got 100 channels of television, all of which seem to show Saved by the Bell in one form or another. A few weeks ago, I bought a new pair of jeans. Their initial value was £40 (thank you, the sale at Ltd. Shirts), but I estimate that they have now cost me something like £180 in total, due to the alarming propensity the pockets have to eject things which they deem unsuitable. Last night, they apparently developed irreconcilable differences with my mobile phone, and threw it down a concrete stairwell (long-term readers may here note Subtle Echoes of an Earlier Event. Chekhov's Phone, if you will. And you will). I heard a mournful crash from far below, thought 'I know what that was' and wearily trudged back downstairs, to collect the blunt and shattered instrument with which I will be next assaulting my bank account. Yeah, I need another job. It's all very well being a trendy barman by night, but I can't in good conscience spend my days loafing around watching the ER double bill and then finding people to have lunch with. Except that's what I've done for the past week. Bollocks. But whatever, it's only for the summer so who really cares? Anyway, time for nonsense.
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