To Sainsbury's to purchase the U2 record. I didn't get a copy in the post. I haven't spoken to Bono in months. I wonder if he's gone off me. On sale for £9.97 but if I'd bought Daniel O'Donnell as well I could have got it for £6.97. It's so tat it might as well be Val Doonican. Couldn't find my bits on it anywhere. It's a disgrace. Rang Laurena and asked her to get me out of the U2 setup. It's just so dismal and dull when compared with the happy atmosphere I get with the Coldplay team - the old spirit has evaporated and their conversation is so dire one just wants to MACHINE GUN them. Also Adam continually says "ekcsetera" which sticks in my craw. Rang Stanley to see what he was doing. To Il Barbino for lunch. It's changed to Robert Dyas. Heigh ho.
In the afternoon, to HMV to look for Val Doonican records I could deconstruct. The only recordings available were on Compact Disc not Vinyl or Cassette and one was driven out of the shop altogether by their irritating habit of playing loud pretentious bang music when one is searching and needs to concentrate. So I went home & took down Bryan's curtains & washed them & washed the walls. Filthy dirty brown from his Capstan Full Strengths & I had to refill the bowl thrice & every time it was filthy brown. He came in halfway through & the whole deadly circle began again: "Oh, Gawd 'elp us" and "You just want to find work" and "It's my flat & I'll smoke if I want to." I sharply retorted that she could do as she liked as long as I wasn't there at the time. Got Cumberland Pie and wine gums and sat down to watch Morecambe & Wise on Dave and that calmed things down a bit. Tradiola. Ernie's cunning wink. I'm weak I'm afraid.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment