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(diaryland) March 15, 2001 - 10:18:23

The Mildly Annoying Things of Today.

  • Every morning, I head off to work. Every morning, I get to work. Every morning, the blind right behind my desk is inexplicably open. Every morning, I shut the thing. The whole day, no-one makes a comment about the blind. No-one even looks at it. No-one seems to register that I've closed it. Yet, the very next morning, it's open again. The cycle begins all over.
    It's obvious I enjoy having the blind shut. Why does the mystery blind person want to sabotage me? They're wasting precious energy that could be used, for, say, making important phone calls. And they're wasting my energy, too.

  • Another thing that annoys me today is when I see people walking around with jerseys draped benignly over their shoulders. These are the people you hear about with no imagination. They're sedated. They're satisfied. They believe in the power of the white picket fence. They don't listen to music. They may or may not live in Kew. I saw one today, and she was laughing affectionately about her kids to someone else equally as odious. If I ever see a photograph of a credible artist standing next to one of their greatest works with a jumper over their shoulders, cuffed together at the front, I'm going to lose all faith in them. Unless the photograph itself is a very wily piece of political art in itself. Then I would cackle and keep the picture forever.

  • Do you know that advert on the telly where Sting advertises his new album and a new sort of car? You know a dude is getting a bit tired and old when he or she cross-advertises. Killing two birds with one stone and all that. But I couldn't believe it in the ad when Sting actually falls asleep on stage whilst singing his new song. I didn't know he was that far gone. But, like Grandpa Simpson, he falls asleep at the drop of a hat. But in the middle of a performance? Dude, time to retire. Suddenly, he's in a car, and he's still asleep. But he's still murmuring the words to his new song. I think he thinks he's still on the stage. He's disoriented. He's lost his short-term memory. He thinks it's Monday. Ooh, it's just terrible. What a confronting ad. We didn't know how far gone he was. We just didn't know.

    I think I'm going to see the band that Roland is an obsessive groupie of, Curse of Dialect, tonight. It may or may not be fun, because I will be very tired. They are playing at the Empress. Plus, I finally have band practice! Double whammy. I want chips for dinner.



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