Rings, Floaters And Flies

I woke up to a gorgeous day and a dilemma.
Do I get straight out into the garden and start doing something, finish scraping the Railings or ease into the day with the BBC’s Saturday Kitchen and a bit of internet porn.
As it turned out I couldn’t concentrate on anything.
My day has felt very disjointed and unsettled.

My favourite line of the day occurred on the lunchtime news concerning Bush meeting the Pope.
The presenter said with a straight face, which leads me to believe it was a bet,
‘The President dispensed with kissing the Papal ring’.
I was on my own and I laughed out loud!
I’m sure he fucking did!

This afternoon I went out in the garden. I cut the grass with shears until I got bored.
I rolled a joint, stuck the Magic Numbers on the ipod and laid down in the cut grass.
I was looking at the shapes the ‘floaters’ in my eyes make. There is one that looks like a cross between a Dragon and a Seahorse. If I move my eyes slightly it moves by bending in half.
Some are just spots that drop, slowly, from top to bottom.
Some dart away as you try and look at them and you are never quite sure what shape they are.
There was not a song on the album I didn’t like. I recommend giving it a go.

I came in to be confronted by one of my absolute pet hates.
Fucking flies.
Why can they get themselves in the fucking house but not out?
Bastards.
Some flies I can deal with, for a bit, but the Raid WILL come out.
But some are SO fucking loud and buzzy.
I have spent the last hour or so, sat with a can of Raid, committing murder.

The Raid certainly takes the ‘Buzzy’ ones down an octave or two but it makes them fucking unpredictable.
They go into kamikaze mode and ricohet off everything.
Then there is the flying 5 inches off the floor stage, finishing with the ‘Breakdance’ back spin that can go on for hours.
With……. A……… Sporadic……… Buzz……..
Long after you have forgotten it’s there!
Late at night, when you are on your own and stoned, it can scare the shite out of you!