It's a very strange thing to be sat editing away at your diary, half listening to your sister's commentary on the television...especially when part of her commentary is "And Merry Christmas to you, Lee Ryan, former member of Blue" because, for one, I wasn't expecting her to actually address the TV (as before that she was just kind of telling me what was happening with added hysteria), and secondly, because I wasn't expecting her to be quite that consise.
Merry Christmas Stephanie, second offspring of my mother's womb.
But, Oh My God, hasn't today been strange???
Kate and I traversed to the pub where we attempted a conversation...but eventually we had to resign ourselves to the sad fact that our conversation is a bit like a game of golf (or at least the game of golf that Kate and I would play)...we have a very good idea of where we want it to go, in fact, we can see the object of our conversation further down the green. We go to take a whack (make a shot? Aim for the hole*?) but in the time it takes us to line the shot up we look at each other, forget what we're doing ad invariably shoot the ball (subject) off into the rough (where we have to fuck around in the bushes...see, it makes sense if you actually know what's going on in my head), a water trap (where we must splash and play and shout), a bunker (where sandcastles and angels are made), or (and this is only in the case of a very SERIOUS subject change and when we are beyond the giggles (in wetting ourselves, red faces and squirting tears mode)) the 19th hole, where we are allowed to abandon the game altogether and put it all down to alcoholism...or not in the case of Kate's pregnant tummy. Golf...a good walk ruined? No, just a GOOD CONVERSATION!
* (I said I hated footnotes but I have to do this because...well...HOLE!) HOLEMASTERS! This was the (excellent) company name I saw emblazoned (good word! Blazers on fire!) on a big white van (man)(I have looked them up in 'the book' (not the bible) and they are drilling practitioners...DRILL ME BABY!)...unfotunately, I HAD to shout "MASTER YOUR HOLE" and have a smile to myself. Then, THEN, I looked in front of me (which is always useful when driving) and, with visions of hole mastering in my head I saw the words "LADY GARDEN" and not "Lawns & Gardens", which is what it actually said. So, thank you Kate. Thank you very much. I have Lady Garden's on the brain. I'M GOING CROTCH! I'VE BEEN FOUND WANDERING IN THE LADY GARDEN!
Finally, I'm taking too much time over this entry...
1) Why was there a man walking down Cornwall Street (road I work on) dressed immaculately with a BOTTLE OF WINE in his suit jacket??? That is one MASSIVE pocket. I want a pocket like that. And I want wine to keep in it.
2) Why does my dog wait until we're back from a walk that lasted an HOUR (and previous to that he'd been in bed with me for hours without doing his doings) to go into the kitchen and 'drop his arse' (I prefer that to 'shit on the newspaper'...but I just said it anyway)
3) Why does my sister say things like "can you help me look for this DVD please? but don't look because your presents are in here too."...look without looking? Okay steph, only as long as I can do it whilst I'm sat in front of the computer.
4) Gahhhhh, I wanted to write so much more...
Okay, before I go...(ha ha)
Commissioned from:
Last Lemon Productions!
