If… Then… Else…

Every now and then I get to this stage. I’ve got several priority ‘things’ (all from different sources, some professional, some not) and they are all fighting for space in my head. There is stuff I need to think about at home, stuff I need to think about for work, even stuff I WANT to think about for work (new stuff, much more exciting than the usual mundane drudgery). Technical stuff, ethical stuff, practical stuff, emotional stuff. Stuff, stuff, stuff. I’ve tried writing lists, hoping it would help get things organised, but after a little thought I promptly realised that ‘several’ really means ‘greater than thirty’ which just adds more stuff to my head that I hadn’t previously thought about …

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Flying rats

A random thought has, for no apparent reason, just popped back into my head (although between you and me, I trust my subconscious about as far as I could move it using telekinesis). Has anyone charted the prosperity (wealth) of a town/city against the estimated population of pigeons in the area? Presumably the town must be able to sustain the numbers of flying rats, typically through all the edible rubbish lying around. The higher the number of pigeons, the higher the number of people needed to generate the food source, the higher the number of people the higher the revenue they generate… see… it actually makes sense. Sort of. Well it does when you should’ve gone to bed about 2 …

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A boy and his dog

I mentioned the 1000 words project a while back. November last year I think… may December. Anyhoo, I finally got my ass into gear, scanned in one scratchy photo, and knocked together some thoughts. You can see the results at: A Picture’s Worth – essays on photographs of personal significance.

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Perchance to dream

Friday night. Louise was at a friend’s house for a Sex and the City party (Cosmopolitans, shrieking woman, tears, hankies… you know the drill). Afterwards they went out and I got phoned at around 2 a.m. to go and pick her up*. We get home around 3 a.m. I get to sleep sometime after 3.42 a.m. Saturday. Up at 8.45 a.m. Things to do. Things to do. Saturday night. Louise’s cousin’s 40th. 100 people in 70s outfits. Cheap booze (8 vodkas, 2 gins, 1 white wine, 2 breezers + mixers = £21), halls shuts at midnight so we adjourn to the private bar downstairs. Leave there at 2 a.m. and head back to the birthday boy’s house. Get back to …

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Uncle Huey

Great party. Bad hangover. Something to do with drinking for 11 hours. I could be wrong. You MAY get a pic or two once I get some sent to me. Went and forgot the camera didn’t I! Now, can someone please stop the room spinning.

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Sit up and Beg!

Tonight we are going to a party to celebrate a 40th birthday (a cousin of Louise). It is a themed party, and yes it’s the 70s. Yes I am going in costume, yes it involves flares, platform shoes, zebra print and an afro. And if you ask very very nicely I may show you a picture or two tomorrow. MAY show, no promises. Unless you really beg…

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Unexpected

An Amazon package? But I thought I’d cancelled that order… ohh crap did I have one-click payment turned on… I’m sure I turned it off to save me making impulse buys… Ohh it’s that Michael Marshall Smith novel… yeah I was looking at that… but… hang on, what does this say? It’s a present! And it’s not even my birthday. What a fabulous way to start the weekend.

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FECKIN OOYYAAHHH!!

It’s self abuse, and may be psychological. Or maybe it’s some need to bring some passion and feeling into my life. Or maybe it’s a cry (literally) for help that I don’t want anyone to hear. Or maybe I’m just bemused by it all and I’m grasping at straws… But, for the love of all things good and proper, do I keep biting the exact same bit inside my lip!!!!! It’s been going on for about a week. And it’s reeeeaallllyyy sore. Tis.

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