Right.
I’m supposed to tell you about the photoshoot we went for, aren’t I? That’s the
kind of thing that usually turns up on here. I tell you about the horribly
early morning that only took its toll at 9PM yesterday, when I looked at my
phone (goodbye, horology for the unenthused) expecting it to read ‘late into
the night’ when in fact it read ‘you just bombed the town of Circadia’.
I tell
you about the journey up. Five of us facing forwards in a car, having a
puffy-eyed laugh, rather than rattling about in the van with the threat of a
cymbal stand in a face-hole looming its chromed head at every red light.
Then I
say that we arrived at our destination, in a kind of ‘phew’ tone. A feeling
that even this description of that phenomenon has managed to induce a little.
Don’t ask me how it’s done. And there’s the bare sarcasm, layered thickly like
the similes that often appear here, too.
Then a
funny thing that happened. Something relatively small but humorously magnified.
Ed was worried about something in a sandwich, or Trewin realised he’d left his
washing on a goat so we had to rush home. Something like that. Nothing like
that really happened. It was literally a normal day with very little adventure.
The photoshoot was fun and we’re very grateful to Rhona for doing it for us. We’re
either getting more professional or more boring. I see no evidence of
eitherTHERE’STHATSARCASMAGAIN(hee hee ho, mateys!)
So we’re
back in it now; back in the actual description of events rather than an attempt
at having fun with the format. We just drove home. That’s literally it. We said
loads of funny things and talked about the shortcomings of various Hollywood
franchises. People in a car. You know how it goes. Imagine times you’ve been in
a car with people (not that time you parked around the back of the industrial
estate because your divorced friend said she really wanted to try it but needed
someone there in case ‘something goes wrong’ and then you realised that in fact
you have a fear of gloveboxes so you vomited all over her skirt and she had to
drive you to the hospital because you were starting to retch your leg bones up
around your ribs and through your dribbly, bile smeared lips) I’m really out of
ideas and still very tired have a nice weekend I’ll let you know how we get on
with the new material next week.
Happy Mothering Sunday.
Tim
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