Tuesday 23 February 2010
Dream: I am driving home and just as I pull into Bohemian Grove there is a car parked across my parking space sideways. With this I go up the wall suspecting immediately that it is the doing of my new neighbour Caroline Geary the Pig Personal Trainer. With this vision I press down on my car horn for an extended period but the button locks/jams and subsequently will not stop. As a result my neighbour from below comes out and asks what is up but she spots the sideways parked car straight away. Eventually the Pig Personal Trainer comes down with the driver of the car oblivious to what I am annoyed about. She asks me how I am and comments how good all things are at the moment. They’re not though. The guy heads to the car where he pulls out a box to take upstairs, not bothering to acknowledge the car needs moving at all. At this point I am fully incensed and so I attack the car. People react with shock, questioning why I am acting so angrily and irrationally. Suddenly a group of people turn up with suitcases and luggage looking as if they are moving in to the complex. One of the people with luggage comes over to me and grabs me saying “what did you say about me?” It is Ric Flair Guy from the train.
When I awaken outside the day is light, I have managed to sleep past my usual rise time. From the other room I actually here my iPhone vibrate. When I eventually get up it turns out to be a text from my boss.
With instinct I put my TV on flipping through the channels to see what US sitcom Channel 4 is rolling out at this hour. It is Everybody Loves Raymond and episodes I have somehow seen before. How have I managed to see every episode of this show ever made? Perhaps I used to watch it religiously due to finding his wife (Patricia Heaton) in it hot. The first episode shown is their season jaunt out of the studio, which that year was to Italy where Richie Aprile guest starred.
Today is the one year anniversary of my American Friend deciding to ex-communicate me. It has been a miserable year. I truly cannot work her out or believe how self serving, fake and basically nasty she turned out to be. It is the hypocrisy that rankles most, here is a god fearing individual that suddenly turned. How can she possibly expect to stick to her apparent ideals when making such decisions? And The Teeth? Well he was just the icing on the cake, a real knock to my confidence and one of the most confusing brush offs I was ever to experience. Once more I failed to climb out of Dating Purgatory and left it too late and suffered. I am suffer he perspective on events is polar opposite but at the same time I doubt she has paid as much mind to events as I have.
Writing begins to flow early on. The shining hour of 8AM comes and goes and eventually I am ashamed and embarrassed to admit that I find myself watching Deal Or No Deal. I never got caught with this shit the first time around but this episode proves compulsive viewing as some young Beckham lookalike (wannabe) called “Eddie” with a lot of front struts around the studio larging it with some kind of weird confidence that appears to be completely undue. With such an attitude you just pray that he is going to fail, this man is a meathead and to see so many people taken in by this programme, demeaning themselves as if it were the height of the human experience. Early on they have to drag his girlfriend from the crowd to sit with Noel and the dickhead. As she weeps she looks like a future and/or current victim of domestic abuse/violence. With five boxes remaining there is still a quarter of a million in play. The Dealer then ups his offer by two grand if “Eddie” proposes to “Sarah”. For two thousand pounds he gets on his knee, completely humiliates himself and belittles the entire viewing audience. In the end they compromise and walk away with £30,000. Such is life. I don’t think it is wise to give somebody like this (a tree surgeon) so much money.
Not longer after this travesty finishes I head out to post the book order to Brendan. I truly hope he doesn’t think it sucks. I avoid town and head to Prettygate where a grumpy woman behind the counter takes the book and serves me with a scowl. From here I head to Sainsbury’s where I stock up on the essentials including their variety of fizzy caffeine drinks (Bolt) and their triple choc cereal that is always going to represent comfort eating for me.
When I get back I resume writing, producing a limited amount of words but hardly setting the world of literature alight in the process.
I have to concede I do find myself occasionally glimpsing again at daytime TV which now appears to feature the National Accident Helpline commercial during each advert block. Truly, what is the difference between this advert and You’ve Been Framed? I can’t see one.
Eventually 3PM comes around and I take a break to listen to Danny Baker’s BBC London show. Today he plays “Ain’t That Enough” by Teenage Fanclub and it sounds so much more better than usual. There is a kind of magic I feel his shows insert into such things.
Feeling relaxed I run and have an afternoon bath, indulging in such luxuries usually only afforded the rich, idle and unemployed.
After the show ends at 5PM I resume writing only to find myself suckered into gawping at Coach Trip on Channel Four. This truly is a ridiculous programme, what kind of person seriously watches this? Whoops, today I guess it is me.
Around 6PM I pause for dinner at The Simpsons comes on. For me The Simpsons still represents one of those reliable things in life, it being on at 6PM everyday acts as a soothing reminder of healthy routine.
From here I stagger into the evening scratching the surface of what I was hoping to accomplish today. Tonight Ricky Gervais pops up on The Daily Show trying too hard when speaking to Jon Stewart. It is embarrassing to see one of my former heroes being so pandering.
Tonight Millwall are at MK Dons and eventually they run out 3-1 winners with Neil Harris snagging two of the goals. High times.
I stay up and write until tonight’s episode of Newswipe which disappointingly is a compilation show although it is still pretty classy with it.