Oooo... a Bit Bonged-Over

I woke up to my phone beeping at me. Ooo! Not so good, I thought, as I got to my feet, noticing the beautiful ray of sunshine in the air and the crispness to the morning because of it.

SMS. 8.20. Morning Christian, well it’s taken me 5000 words but I finally got him in her arse. She luvd it. How r u? How’s ur writn going? ☺ - Kym

Okay, well that’s one way to start the day.

Another way is discovering that I had no milk. Beenie. Jumper. Wallet. Stagger, stagger. Out the door.

Oo! Only just getting feet in front of each other, I thought, as one foot went sideways instead of straight a head.

You know, the Asian boy in the milk bar would be quite cute if he lost 10 kilos.

Newspaper. Cigarettes. Milk.

I need to move it!

christian

Miss how are you?

Tom

Oooo... a bit bonged-over. But the fresh morning air is slowly starting to seep in. Coffee. Cigarettes. Food.

How are you?

christian

SMS. 9.50. (Kym) Good to hear, ‘give it to me baby!’ said with lips like ripe plums. I started to write my novel last night. I guess I have to get used to jumping around. It seems to be my way of writing, bugger it. – christian

Maybe, I need more coffee.

I'm good Missy!

Now about that bed – shall I come over after work sometime?

Tom

Yes, that would be lovely. And I could roll you a thank-you joint for your trouble.

You should have grabbed me by the ears on the weekend and said. No, we have to move the bed.

Not that I'm putting it onto you, you understand.

Not that I would have liked my ears man-handed, actually.

So, I suppose I had better get back up there. I have a sore hand from yesterday. But, I reckon I could go and hire the sander tomorrow.

You know, I’ve done a bit with a hand sander and while I’m not kidding myself about how much hard work it would be to sand the floors that way, I like the effect it has. I don’t want the floorboards to be stripped of everything that has occurred to them over their life as floorboards in this house. I want them to look like planks with dirt between them. I want them to only be lightly sanded, still with the marks of time visible.

They are looking good already.

christian

I spent quite a few hours extracting nails. I have sore hands.

I stood in the kitchen – having had a joint – and decided that I wanted the sander – I was putting it off until tomorrow, for some reason. And I want a plant for the empty planter.

I decided that I could do both. I had to really talk myself into it, but I did manage it.

Go and get it.

I can’t go to the hire shop with Stoned eyes.

Go and get it.

Otherwise, you’ll have nothing to do tonight. Or at least, look at the time you’re wasting. Get it done, take it back on the way to mum’s for dinner. Easy peasy.

I so want to sand the stairwell landing. It would be so easy. It wouldn’t take that long, although clearing the debris off the landing would be a feet in itself.

It would make such a mess. Right through the house. Right through. Every where!

But the sanders are here. But it’s all painted, the messiest stuff to get off. Everything that Mark has painted on. I quite like the painted look, don’t get me wrong. And I didn’t get off my arse to sand them either, way back when.

I sanded until 8pm. And then I was knacked.

Tom arrived at 9pm, after rooting Superman Phil. “His teeth are good,” responded Tom, after I asked him how it was.

Both post-Phil and Superman Phil, good teeth, I thought.

Tom now tells me that there are only five golden tickets. Only five, I feel like I’ve had three all ready. Funny?

Most people have to settle for a never ending Wonka Bar. No golden ticket.

I don’t know if I signed on for that particular mantra.

Mark called. They are in Italy. They both have colds, because they got trashed in Amsterdam.

“Well, the lowest number they sold was ten. And we didn’t want to waste them. So we had to take them all, over the weekend.”

He said he had emailed.

He was trying to call Jane.

I must call Jane.

It’s midnight.

Joints have been constant.

Hi Fletchy, how are ya lovely. Italy is fucking amazing... so beautiful up here in the north... Sebastian's took us up into the mountains yesterday very Austrian, just think Heidi's village. We hired a horse and buggy and went clopping through the meadows covered in crocus flowers, surrounded by cobalt blue, snow capped mountains, Mark was singing and crying the whole time as you can imagine... It was breathtaking really... They have lots of other day trips planned so we’re going to be very busy... I have a cold at the moment we bought ten eee's in Amsterdam for 35euro so we had to take them all naturally, silly thing really but they we're fantastic, very clean.

Mk's taking lots of footage, although he dropped our camera and now it's fucked, we think, but Sebastian M. has his so it's all good... About the booking's, they all sound fine, you'll have to get mum or dad to ring the Shire one and get the details, Poor Mrs. C hey? And the newspaper one, if you can reply to them and ask for all the relevant info, that would be cool, if you already have it don't worry... Talk to you soon, lots of

love, Lukexxxxx.

Italy is so beautiful, all of the heritage still exists, in little alleyways and Fiat Bambinos. And then there is the coast and the sea, even if the Mediterranean is empty, completely fished out. (And chockers with plastic water bottles, although don't look)

You'll have a car now, so you'll be able to go wherever you want.

I bought pot Friday night after work and lost Saturday to Monday, but I rallied Tuesday. For a moment I thought, nah, I'll just spend the week stoned. (But I haven't. Well, not for breakfast, certainly) Not nearly as glamorous as Amsterdam, though. All those canals and bridges. Did you go to look at the prossies in the windows?

On ya Mark, regards the camera. Did you get travel insurance?

I was going to ring, will ring, but what details do you need?

Your father quoted the same as the last function the shire had. Better than I would have done, I reckon.

Send me what details you want for both?

I've sent flowers to Mrs. C.

Give both Sebastian's a kiss from me. Tongues!

christian xo

Tom just signed in. It must take him just over an hour to get home.

(Tom)

I want this to hang off him.

(Insert a picture of something large and uncut)

(The boy in question, was named Andy)

The name Andy is optional. I could live with it.

(christian)

It’s 1.11.

I’m getting off gaydar. I’m watching porn. And I’m thinking about sex with Manny.

I think I’ve sullied my name, any way. I think I come on too strong sexually – knowing they want to is enough, remember – and then I don’t want to have sex. He’s a dud. He’s just a game player… probably.

I have to develop a more chatty persona. Perhaps the live chat room would be good.

Tom says that if I’m ever going to have any chance of finding the golden ticket, I have to open more wonka bars.

Hmmmm?

Do I have to? Can’t you just go out and pick and drag him back here for me?