... but I stopped. Now I'm a dad, and may blog again...

Monday, October 24, 2011

431: Magnolia

The Landlord Jr. is in my bathroom slapping paint on the walls to cover up the mould spots caused by the lack of a window, or fan on a separate circuit to the light. I can hear him: BUUUUURRRP, pardon me, YAWWWNNN, fuckin' 'ell to himself, banging his brush against the wall instead of using smooth up/down strokes. Because the bathroom is out of bounds I am now convinced that I will at any moment explode with urine and/or faeces despite not feeling the calling of either; the paranoia has kicked in, like when you are on the plane and the seatbelt light is on and the toilet is out of bounds. Now he has just sighed staccato followed by a Ric Flair yelp of wooooo; what's going on in there? It now sounds like an overweight Northern martial artist is tussling with a baker vigorously kneading a beanbag-sized lump of dough. I dread to think what I'll see when I inevitably have to clear him out to use the toilet.

I can't remember how (they've already got to me, wiping my short-term memory via smells emanating from my own spectacles) but I've stumbled across a really good series of articles called the Top 25 People Crippling Scientology. (Uhh, said the Landlord Jr. Hei-yahh.) Each entry is a long, extremely well researched (for a blog) blog post focusing on one person/group/fictional entity on the list. I'm reading it in the order of a countdown, so I've yet to get to the stunningly bizarre individuals like Tom Cruise, L.Ron Hubbard, and the rest of those clowns. (Heeehaaah, hic, hic, hic.)

But enough about that particular subject; those fine adherents to that honourable and valid religion (unless in Germany, France, Russia, etc) are free to believe and practise whatever they like (as long as they are not hurting, harming or abusing anyone, or restricting anyone's freedom to speak, associate with whomever they choose, or leave the faith if they wish to...).

Somehow I've managed to get paint on my foot. Still, worse things could happen. I'd be lucky if paint on my foot was the biggest worry; why, that would be heaven on earth. Instead of wiping it off, I have put on a sock and tried to forget about it... typical. Today's news: MPs, Turkey, troops, Tintin, whisky, St. Paul's, Eurozone, donuts, and now the sport and weather. See you all later. After the goldrush, or whenever is convenient. 

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