Tags: there she goes making friends again!


Internet Logic

It is well known that I am a complete fantasist, in all regards. Say something to me, anything and I will likely hear something else, just anything else, preferably something I want to hear. If I'm feeling a bit dramatic, it'll probably be something I don't want to hear. More so if it's written down!

My name isn't Marjory. I am not female. I am 3' 7" and a penguin. From Mars. Anyone who's ever met me, or met someone who's met me, you haven't really. What you saw was merely a projection of my fantasies.

dr_mitch doesn't exist. He's me. Once in a while I feel compelled to dress up like this:

I can't even add up FFS! And I've never been to Germany, as they don't let lemurs have passports. It goes without saying that I am a very dirty armadillo. And am drunk all of the time as I'm so self-deluded that I purchase 2 pints at a time (pictured).

I don't have a LiveJournal account. This is a mass hallucination. I can't read, I can't write and my IQ has been measured as being the same as absolute zero on the celsius scale. This is considered to be very high on Betelgeuse, which is where I'm from. Yes, that's what I said before. Saturn.


Witterings From A Small Mind

Just because the world is a scary place full of bad and serious things happening, very occasionally to me, I now see fit to boast of my relaxing afternoon (well, post 4pm). Alone, save for a good book, a bottle of water and some bun thing with ham and cheese on it. Yes, I heaved my fish-belly blue-white carcass into the sunshine, or at least that portion of it represented by the Johanniskirchhof. It's nice there, if one ignores the 1950's jumble of concrete shops to the left and just concentrate upon the nice mediaeval church to the right. There are lots of benches set out under various trees, so all in all a good place to go for a bit of fresh air and relaxation.

Of course, 9 out of 10 winoes in the town think this too, as it turns out. Who knew? There were plenty of benches and it was just sheer bad luck that a coterie of the perpetually pissed decided to plonk themselves down on the bench cati-corner to me and to start arguing about...? Beer? Jenniver? Korn? Who knows, but there was some kind of berating going on with a Greek chorus of supporters of either side. It appeared that a friend of the group had... something... and there was some dispute as to who was going with him for that something. It was loud, it was staggery and I found myself wondering if they would notice and take it ill that the girl on the next bench suddenly left for another bench. Man-with-something got up and strode across to another bench as wino number one followed him. There was shouting. Wino number one scuttled back. Wino number two then started to follow Man-with-something. There was shouting again and #2 scuttled back only to be replaced by #1 in the process. Then they all joined him. I settled back down to my book once I was satisfied that they hadn't all decamped for a scrap (this has been known to happen).

The next person to come along and bother me was a young woman in an islamic headscarf. She smiled, I smiled and then she offered me a pice of paper bearing the image of a small child with a request for money to help care for said small child. Suffice to say, the message was printed, the picture was photocopied and the whole card was laminated. This kind of thing screams 'con' to me. She asked for money; I told her that I had none. She asked again; I repeated that I had none. She sat down next to me and asked me for money; I repeated, politely but firmly, that I was very sorry, but I didn't have any money. She then asked if I would go and buy some Pampers for the baby. Oh. Moral qualms came up then and I wondered if I should just fork over 50 cents and be done with it or go and buy nappies any old how... but evil, child-of-Thatcher Marjory won out and I said again that I was broke. She then suggested that I could pay with a card... I said that I didn't have a card because... I was a foreigner. I suggested that she could go to the manse (handily located behind the church) and she poo-pooed the idea before asking me for money again. Several times more I attempted to persuade her that I was a financially impecunious individual with no EC Geldkarte, before she got the message and left. Maybe she was honest and I am a cynical and twisted soul, but...

The next person who happened along was a guy who wanted to know if I had a bottle opener for his beer. Erm... no. I did have a lighter, however, and this sufficed for his purpose.

The pigeons got some of my bun. It was easier, quicker and less painful that way.

I did get some reading done and had some quality time in the sun and was quite relaxed and happy before I got on the bus to go and see Mitch and go home. Aside from the obvious, it was a good afternoon. And it appears that I left in the nick of time, as about the time my bus arrived, so did an ambulance and some policemen heading wino-wards as apparently some entente or other had broken down.

I need a good, safe park, methinks.

Still Banal

Well, I took a different early bus this week and it was absolutely packed with grannies. However these grannies behaved themselves quite well. I may have to revise my opinions re little old ladies on public transport, even to the extent that perhaps one experiences a better class of such on the 2 than on the 4.

Of course, my experience of people smiling, saying excuse me, lack of elbow-induced abrasions etc. was somewhat counterbalanced by the presence on the bus of the woman who thinks I am a witch. Oh goody. Next week I'll try the 12.

Then it turned out that my client had cancelled anyway.

If you listen very carefully, you will hear a muffled thudding sound. That would be me banging my head against the wall...