Thursday, 26 February, 2009

Awake since 7. Birds won't shut up. How I wish they would perish. I should take a shotgun out onto the roof and shoot 'em. Tape it for this future project where I have to go to Swindon with lemons and wellies. I shall do no such thing. Phoned video company who sent tickets for Paddington. It is an outrage. Bryan still grumbling because I washed his curtains when he went out to Archway yesterday lunchtime. It was all "you just want to find work." It's a disgrace but one is expected to be charitable to the old. Cameron's son dies so that is excellent news. A Tory victory is sorely needed - will see those prancing old Barri Chatt socialist queens getting the boot they deserve. Hop on the 274 but driver loudly derides me for having my flies open. I did them up approximately 0.75 seconds after he pointed it out so he was obviously a sad pervert. Heigh ho. To Joe Allen's where I gave Han Bennink and Patrick Mower lunch. We sat outside afterwards and watched the ducks until an over officious policeman moved us on. He obviously didn't fancy me - clearly he is a sick, dessicated individual. Dodged up side streets and walked home for tradiola. Thought of George Eliot.