Diary of an up and coming sociopath

You may have noticed a break in service. This is almost entirely down to the SOUL INCINERATING HEAT that’s been causing us all major discomfort for the last week or so. I mean there are probably other minor factors (laziness, boredom, etc) but heat is the one I’m going to blame.

So, when we last joined our hero, he was car-less and had just taken a day off work. You’re probably asking yourself, in that tiny brain of years that strains to comprehend even these missives, how did that turn out?

Short answer: They fixed the car and I paid them £200.

Long answer: I had to walk up the road in the blazing heat, such that I was trying to eat a Lemonade Sparkle on the way to try and cool me down but finding it virtually disappeared as I tried to eat it. Somehow, the sun’s rays were transforming otherwise ROCK SOLID ice into a liquid unsuitable for chewing. When it was gone I was pondering the moral implications of dropping wood on the floor as litter. After all, it’s wood so it’s probably natural enough, but then natural wood splints don’t contain a joke (which I had already seen on a different stick - “What dance do tins of beans do?” - “The Can Can”) so one assumes there’s some level of processing involved. In the end I decided that the fact it was making my hand sticky was reason enough to cast it to the ground and dutifully returned the wood to the earth from whence it came. Then I powered on to the garage where they took £200 off me and returned to me a fixed car, which they had helpfully parked in the sun. Thanks to that I was even hotter driving back, but at least it didn’t take as long.

That was basically my entire Tuesday. I don’t remember doing much on either Wednesday or Thursday except writhing in heat-induced delirium and taking great solace in the discovery that at about 6pm our east-facing garden is shaded enough to actually cool down to a reasonable temperature, so we spent every evening this night eating dinner in the garden, talking in the garden, and stargazing in a very literal sense. In fact, we saw quite a few shooting stars between us (something I’d never actually managed to do until this week) which pointed to a likely meteor shower. But no triffid problem yet.

On Friday Sam and Damian came back over and we went into Central London to buy comics and all kinds of shite, though in many ways I was the only one spending any money. I bought, in addition to a week’s comics:
The Adam and Joe Show DVD
ATD-I album, In/CASINO/OUT
Tank Girl, Vol. 1 TPB
24/Seven Anthology graphic novel
and the latest Marvel Figurine Collection, “Mephisto”

Then we all went for a Nandos and I tried to deal with how much money I’d spent in a rational way. By trying not to think about it.

On Saturday, Josh, Sam, Damian, Nikki and I went to the Studio Artois film festival in Greenwich park. We left arounf 4-ish and got the Picadilly line, Jubilee line and DLR to Greenwich, then faced an incredibly difficult uphill walk in some very hot humid weather to go collect our tickets, though we did manage that. When we got there we found a place with a decent view, put down the groundsheets and prayed that it wouldn’t rain. In case it did, I was carrying a large umbrella which I used to extend my reach to great effect throughout the rest of the day. We got drinks and food (Steak Sandwich. £7-50. Coke, £2-00. What bargains.) and then listened to the LSO play a selection of film themes that we didn’t know, including and certainly limited to anything John Williams didn’t do, because they clearly didn’t get the rights off him. Then there was an excellent DJ Yoda set, though the visuals, cut-together scenes from the films that influenced Kill Bill (and films from the surrounding genre) that made me want to go and watch some Bruce Lee like I did occasionally when I was a kid. Then they actually played Kill Bill Vol. 1, which I haven’t seen for some time now. On a screen that size, it was utterly unbeatable too. With the lack of rain, it turned out to be an excellent night out.

The DLR station became full very quickly afterwards, so we ended up going two stops back and boarding there so that we could get seats. It worked a charm, but because of the delays we ended up at Bank too late to get the tube home. Besides which, even before we were aware of that, we boarded one in the wrong direction and ended up at Liverpool Street station. We ended up getting the N11 night bus back home, which took us basically the whole way back as far as any bus route can, and turned out to be a really cool ride, because we were at the front. There was one of the trademark London “Weird Guy on the Bus” as repeatedly related to us by Al, though this guy just herd us wuoting Fight Club at each other and seemed to want to talk about it. Then he recommended we see Old Boy, and informed the people he was with that when they got back they were going to watch Fight Club. We made it back at about 3am, then woke up at 10 the next morning feeling decidedly groggy about the situation, so I decided to do the only rational thing and cook myself a Sunday Lunch and watch the new episode of the F Word that I downloaded, by which point the afternoon was looking up considerably.

Which, more or less, brings me to now, when I finally have to admit that I’ve got to go to bed and prepare to go back to work tomorrow. I get paid on Tuesday though, which should take the edge of the week somewhat.