A random collection of thoughts and occurrences…
As a writer, I enjoy playing with words. Of course, I usually wait until there is no-one about, to save any embarrassment. Mostly, they seem to enjoy it, but I have discovered that there is one word that is quite ferocious in its objection.
With that in mind, I’d like to issue this warning: You play with the word ‘intrinsic’ at your peril. At best, it will snarl threateningly at you, but given enough provocation it will sink it’s vicious pointy teeth into the fleshy part of your upper thigh.
Probably not near enough to anything vital to impact upon impending parenthood, but certainly in such proximity that it may make you reconsider your political allegiance.
I got hit by an uninsured driver yesterday. I was walking across a supermarket car park and this guy came up and smacked me across the mouth. As I reeled from the shock and stared at him in disbelief, he started to grin.
“Sorry, mate. I thought you were someone else,” he said and started to walk away.
I chased after him.
“Hang on,” I yelled. “I don’t think ‘sorry’ does it. You might have broken my leg!” (I meant my nose, but I wanted to lay it on a bit thick).
He pulled himself up to his full height and towered above me. “You wanna make somethin’ of it?” he asked and then he got into his car.
“Oh, and don’t bother taking my registration number,” he said. “I’m not insured.”
My friend Izzi told me about a mini roundabout that is shaped exactly like a human nipple, so being an inquisitive person (and not at all prurient) I went to have a look.
When I got there it was hard to tell if she was accurate in her description, but I guess she must have been, because there was a giant baby sucking on it.
I’m not one of those who have a problem with breast-feeding in public (although in the middle of a busy road is a bit much) but I also didn’t want to look like a voyeur, so I quickly turned away.
Unfortunately, at that moment the baby decided to be sick all over my car. It took a lot of scrubbing to get it all off, but I’m worried that the smell is going to linger for months.
Mallary called to say that he would like to come and visit. Unfortunately I couldn’t see him; I’d just sent my eyes off for re-polishing.
Normally, I use a ‘while you wait’ service and the nice lady pops them in and out for me. Although sending them away is a much more economical option it has left me with two concerns.
First, will they get lost in the post in which case I could be blind for life, and second, if I do get them back, how will I know?
There was a ring on the bell earlier today and I opened the door to find the smallest child I’ve ever seen, standing on the doorstep.
“My ball’s gone into your garden,” he said.
I sort of expected him to say something else and waited. After a few moments of puzzled silence I thanked him for letting me know and closed the door.
About three hours later, I was going out and opened the door to find the same child waiting with an expectant look on his face.
“Yes?” I asked.
“My ball went into your garden,” he said.
“Thanks, you’ve already told me,” I assured him.
A while ago I found myself in Diss by mistake. For those who don’t know this area it’s about halfway between Ipswich-by-accident and Norwich-by-misadventure. I’d got on a train for Stowmarket only to discover after it had started moving that it didn’t actually stop there.
Of course, I could have spent the extra time on the train doing something useful like working on a plot line or writing some dialogue, but instead I spent most of the journey contemplating the emergency handle.
On a completely separate note, there is a village quite near to where I live called Nedging with Naughton, which I always think sounds like something you could get arrested for.
I was looking out of the back window when a young lad popped his head over the garden wall. It was a little unusual because it’s normally footballs that come across. I didn’t have long to ponder this strange occurrence before there was the inevitable ring of the doorbell.
When I answered there was a headless child pointing at his empty shoulders with one hand whilst waving furiously at the garden with the other. Now, I’m not great at sign language but I guessed that he probably wanted his head back.
In any case I figured that if I was wrong he would tell me what he wanted when I retrieved his head. Unfortunately, by the time I got to the garden the cat had eaten it, so I’ll never know.
I’ve driven in many parts of the world – through major cities, provincial towns, isolated villages, and deserted areas in the back of beyond. I’ve negotiated the busiest motorways with mind-numbing junctions to forgotten tracks that appear to lead nowhere.
I’ve driven in all kinds of traffic from roads with seven or more lanes in each direction to roads with no lanes at all and traffic goes wherever it pleases. I’ve seen every kind of road sign imaginable and I’ve never, ever got lost…
…until I tried using SatNav!
Of course, it may be just the way I was using it – there’s no instructions that say you shouldn’t point the screen towards the road, so that it can see where it’s going.
I woke up with a splitting headache this morning, which is a bit worrying because I’m pretty sure that I went to bed with my partner.
I’ve never been one to take pills for a headache. I’ve always found that they can come on quite naturally by themselves. In any case, I firmly believe that if you don’t take medication then your body learns to fight for itself.
This has worked quite well for me because apart from the occasional headache I’ve never had a day’s illness other than a couple of viral infections, a bout of flu, an odd rash, a recurring pain in my knee, a strange lump, gout, scurvy…
Anyway, it turns out that this headache was due to lack of sleep, which is not that surprising; how can you sleep with a thumping headache?