November 19th, 2006

muttley, graffiti

Things to do in Iceland when you're Dead to the World

Thursday night, on the way home from the Google thingy I bought a Cornish Pasty at Victoria Station. And then a kebab from the dodgy place on Cally Road that does mixed donner and chips with garlic sauce.

This possibly explains why, at 5am, I'm slumped on the floor of my downstairs toilet praying to a previously unpetioned god (any flavour, I'm not fussy) that either I throw up and get it over and done with or that the walls stop crawling in my peripheral vision.

As the great prophet Radiohead said

"You do it to yourself, you do."

Matters are complicated by the fact that I want to be on a plane in a few hours.

"And that's what really hurts."

I am not the brightest tool in the box, am I.


A lot can probably be garnered from the fact that I considered the following email a compliment.
     From: John
     To: Simon
     Subject: re: Insanity!!!

     I think you're probably the only person I know 
     who's stupid enough to do this with me.

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Alternatively just watch Triumph of a Heart. But, you know, without the cat.