As beautiful as a chance encounter on a dissection table of a washing machine and an umbrella. (Lautréamont)
If all else fails, and if I didn’t care at all, I would write this over and over for an hour and a half for my surrealist film paper.

From the other side of the garden fence my neighbour says very loudly and very sincerely, If I could go back and had the chance to start all over again, I would never have children. Not in a million years are they worth it.
This is a thought that should be left to simmer quietly [...]

Everyone went out.
My father donned a navy suit and licked what is left of his hair over his forehead. He leaves the house with one eye partly obscured. And a bow-tie. He went out wearing a bow-tie. A spotted blue bow-tie. The parental unit has a busier social life than I do at the moment. [...]

My father has taken up his crusade to save The Couch. It is not all that dissimilar to the crusade of last year. He is adopting very similar techniques; once again he has martyred himself to the cause of A Clean Surface. Please, he says hoarsely when I get home, flagging, my sun burnt shoulders [...]

Read through old blog, marveled at both eloquence and relative amusingness. Caught a whiff of nostalgia.
One year ago today I counted down exams to go and shielded my head from a rain of flying ring binders with my mouth very very close to the telephone mouthpiece, back pressed into the ridges of a radiator and [...]

In capital black biro letters on my left foot it says RIGHT. And on the right, LEFT. Put your best foot forward. As if we’re not confused enough.
Everything is suspended again, least of all, lastly, my shirt on the line and a checkered tea towel caught in the branches of the birch tree, stolen, dug [...]

J -
I pulled a bum muscle in excitement.