More Sunday babbling
... because it's Sunday, which means I haven't blogged for a week. Not that that's anything to write home about: I've not a lot to say. However, now I shall vent as I'm annoyed, and might well soon be ill. Why? Because I happen to like cold coffee and hate flys.
Obvious then it is to cover one's coffee mug: and if not, at least check for alien invaders before drinking from it. Obvious to all but me, sadly.
A mouth full of coffee (nice) and a large fly (not so nice) is enough to send even the sanest Emu over the edge, and trundling down the hill of despair and insanity. Especially if the only sympathy said Emu receives is rampant laughter.
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I don't rave about bands a lot. I've no idea why. Perhaps it's because I don't think there are many brilliant new bands out there. Anyway, now I've found one. 'Elbow' are really, really good. And I don't say that lightly. Not that I think their name rawks. Far from it. It's a bit meh, really. Or, to put it in stronger terms: their name sucks. BUT, their music is sublime!
They are the best thing I've heard in an age and a half, and their album 'The Seldom Seen Kid' is just Mmmm! Check them out if you've a mind ... or even if you don't.
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Housework really pisses me off. It's such an unmitigated waste of time (I know you can meditate while hoovering, but it's damn dangerous when doing the stairs). So, I've been pondering the idea of selling my un-made bed. If Tracy Emin can sell her's to Charles Saatchi for ?250,000 - then surely mine must be worth something. It's got lots of 'things' hers hasn't, and I'd even sign a manuscript (perchance I ever finish one) and leave it under the pillows.
So, umm, any offers would be most welcome.
Yours, ever hopeful,
Camy.
- edited to fix the link to 'The Bones of You' - Thanks Des.
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