Tuesday 23 March 2010

Wednesday 17 March 2010

Death of a Fuckin' Salesman*

RICKY ROMA: Fuck you, Dave. You know you got a big mouth. You make a close, this whole place stinks with your farts for a week - how much you just ingested. Oh, what a big man you are! "Hey, let me buy you a pack of gum. I'll show you how to chew it." Whoof! Your pal closes, and all that comes out of your mouth is bile. Ooh, how fucked-up you are!

Tuesday 16 March 2010

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So, it would appear that my laptop's keyboard is fucked. Luckily, I picked up a USB keyboard a while back to accommodate my girthy fingers.

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I just tried to type the first two sentences above sentence using the fucked keyboard. That's how fucked it is. Luckily, the new laptop that my colleague is collecting on my behalf will be with us soon. I can't wait!

Monday 15 March 2010

An eerie sense of familiarity

I left my keys at Laura's house, so I waited for her in the Hilary Step after college, and got stuck into Travels in the Scriptorium by Paul Auster. I re-read Oracle Night recently, whetting my appetite for his uniquely dispassionate oddness.

So far, it's a hall of mirrors, more so still than what I remember of his other works. There's an eerie sense of familiarity to it. Repeated names, ideas, and concepts from his other books given the impression of déjà vu. It is unusualness that reigns, in tone, in subject, in style.

Twenty pages in, I found a bookmark. It was mine, from when I'd started to read the book a year or so ago. Déjà vu indeed! Or rather, déjà lit.

Thursday 11 March 2010

“…sometimes these things just happen…”

Text from Graham. He’s persona non grata following his little stunt a couple of weeks ago, so I was kind of expecting something to come my way eventually. It was full of shit.

“…I’m guessing you know what’s happened just want you to know that I never meant to hurt anyone sometimes these things just happen…”

What? What things just happen? Hailstorms and flat tyres just happen. Tax increases just happen. Refereeing mistakes and rock star no-shows just happen. Because something that just happens is something that’s outside of our control. What things are you talking about Graham?

Wednesday 10 March 2010

Tuesday 9 March 2010

I don't want to chit chat, I just want to read.

The only good thing about the shit conference that I attended today in Derby was that I got to read the whole of Paul Auster's Oracle Night on the journey.

Just after I took out the book from my bag, I spotted Jacqui from R___ on my train. Fuck, I don't want to chit chat, I just want to read. She didn't see me, so I exhaled in relief and turned the first page.

At Derby station, I ran into Jacqui. No avoiding her this time round. She was carrying a copy of The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold.
"We're about an hour early," she said. "I might get a coffee and read my book for a bit."
"That sounds lovely. I'll join you, if I may."

Wednesday 3 March 2010

Date night

It's stolen from Woody and Clare, and from a thousand other lovers I'm sure: Laura and I decided to make Wednesday nights our regular date night. Tonight? DVD and dinner. We went to Asda to find ingredients for a red thai curry, and then to the big Sainsbury's in Salford looking for cheap DVDs.

Monday 1 March 2010



Graham reveals himself to be a schmuck

At lunch with Louise, my phone rang. It was Dunk. He sounded angry, flustered, in a way that I totally wasn’t used to. Something happened at last week’s party – the party that I’d been at with Kate – and it had really gotten under Dunk’s skin. Dunk’s generally a very cool customer, so this was serious.

“It’s Graham. At that party last week, he tried to force himself onto Kate – tried to kiss her – but Kate wasn’t interested, so she said no. And then Graham got aggressive, and started calling her names. Shouting at her and calling her a slag.”

My jaw hit the floor. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t get my head around the situation. I was shocked. And, from within, I could feel myself becoming enraged. I can’t remember what I mumbled to Dunk, only that he carried on…