You never realise how boring your life is until someone asks you what you do for fun. I didn’t have an answer when Wild Girl poised me as such, just a look of disdain. Anyway, I figured out that once attacked by a woman, play dead, or play her favorite song. I don’t know any favorites for women so I played dead. But that didn’t work for long since she pulled a wrapping of fries out of her handy and my nose could see all that she was doing. Eventually, I couldn’t hold it,
“I’ve finally worked up the courage to tell you how I feel.”
“Is this the part where I’m meant to start blushing and giggling?”
I let out a feline yawn (no need to interpret that, a yawn means the same thing in every language) then;
“I feel hungry.”
Amidst the munch, I blurt, “I mean, a table, a chair, a bowl of plums and a blog; what else does a man need to be happy?”
Of course I’m lying. Other things that make me happy are squeaky gates at a lone park, abandoned hallways and empty lecture halls at night or sipping coffee as I watch the dark whip the daylights out of a Friday evening. Does that ring any bell? Look at you, that’s why you’re all dumb. What on earth is a bell doing inside your head?
Anyhow, Monday has found me dusting my archives and treating a hangover of a very boring weekend that was spent tapping my feet, with my heavy boots of course, in the library and shushing people that complain. Then I bump into these old snaps that have a story on their ‘behinds’ that I itched to tell. So these sum up Monday.