Wash and dry thoroughly before and after use � 16.08.2004 ... 10:37 a.m.

Good morning, hello, did everyone have a good weekend? Mine was super great with extra lashings of love bugs (and fleas and wasps). First thing Saturday at work I got to sit with my all time number one favourite crazy. Her name is Olive Oliver and we chatted about celluloid. She commented that our friend was not there (my all time second in line greatest crazy) and I had noticed it too. I got on with strict ordering and removing pieces of fossilised food from the shelves (the glamour!) until I distinctly heard �WE STAND� UNDEFEATED!� he�s heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere! I did a salute and a very tiny march in celebration and he did a salute and an all encompassing march around the library. Then he chatted to me about politics (he is obsessed with the Russian revolution) and he told me he boycotted the library for three months when Mrs Greentrees spoke some ill thought words about Hitler. He explained that Greentrees is his nickname for a colleague which at times I cannot be all that close to in proximity for fear of the enormity of the scream which is bubbling under the surface ready to break through my closed teeth and throat.

Right now I am trying to wean myself away from obsessive hand washing. The skin all over my hands is white, cracked, flaking. It looks like I have the lurgy and feels horrible. I�m trying to compensate by slathering them in massage oil before I go to bed and Neutrogena (if it�s good enough for a Swedish bar flying gymnast�) but it�s not really defending against the extreme hand washing conditions. It's got to the stage where if, for example, I touch my own clean, non-horrible foot, the shower curtain, the window, a banister etc I have to go and wash my hands. I am probably washing my hands up to thirty times a day. At the moment the handwash is called purple harmony. This is the lamest name for a handsoap that I have ever come across. What kind of harmony would ever be purple? I told my mum (about the washing not the purple soap) and she said that my brother is trying to sort out his thing with door handles. Apparently, amongst other things, he can only open doors with the bottom of the palm of his right hand. It does not help that where I work is dirty and manky. Books are returned with a whole host of residues. Actually, this has just reminded me of a time when a lady gave me a carrier bag and walked out. In it was the book she wanted to return covered in ice cream. She was concessionary crazy.

Saturday night M and I went to see Fahrenheit 911 and then onto a meal. The meal was good and we were happy but seemingly no one around was. The couple on the table to our left started having an argument which resulted in screaming (her) and shouting (him) and crying (her) and storming out (both). Then two people started crying on the table to our right. It was all covered humorously by a backdrop of cheesy Italian music. As we left we walked past a drunk who spends a lot of his time on the streets and not a lot of time washing. I�m not quite sure really how he manages to look like that unless he purposely smears mud across his face. It�s like he is wearing grease paint. He often passes out in the road at which point the police come and escort him home. This was happening as we walked by. We thought it would be a good idea to get away from the high street and go for a walk which was sexy and fun. There were three pieces of popcorn retrieved from my bra.

I loved Sunday and I wish I could live it all over again. We went for a walk around Trent Park and stopped off at the caf� where I proved myself as Ultimate Wasp Killer. M proved himself as boy who stands up and moves away from wasp infested table like a pansy. I STAND UNDEFEATED! Then we spent a long time gawping and laughing at the animals. They have all been rescued so it�s a little centre of misfits with dodgy wings/legs eyes etc. They are so cute and funny that they make want to do a little dance. We then watched a jazz band in my local park and M would not join me in a little dance. I so badly wanted to go and join the two centurions doing the Cancan around their handbags. This was the first time I have actually seen someone dancing around a handbag and it made me very happy. There was also a very old man dancing in long socks, two incredibly sweet little girls holding hands dancing and four boys jamming out with their tennis rackets. I cannot go up and do these things alone I have to have someone with me so I remained at a sad but very happily watching distance.

Then we went to a funfair and I had candyfloss. I love it. I can�t go on any of the rides (I was sick in the bushes last time) but I can eat copious amounts of pink sugar. I really don�t understand the process of how it is made and I can�t find a website that explains.

Now my sister�s boyfriend has also gone home and it is back to just her and I. An upside of this is that the toilet seat is down but there is nobody leaning over kissing me every so often and giving me affection. We substituted the love for going for an evening stroll and then making butt grooves in the couch watching Illegal Cable* and eating mint chocolate chip ice cream.

* Bought from a man in a pub but not the original man in the pub because he disappeared.

Inkysoso Go-getter, Jet-setter, Heavy-petter


newest older profile notes host