Hobgoblins from the Cellar,

Let me not be too consumed with this world
Sometimes I want to go home
And stay out of sight for a long time.

I can agree with this sentiment wholeheartedly, but right now, I share a home with my very own George Bush.

I can list many occurrences of strange and odd behaviour. I was told I might be reading too much into things, but I know something’s not right. I can be as mean as I want to be because I know he has no recourse. It's hard to be anything but icy and uninterested in his business, at least to his face. Sometimes I try to shock him into thinking we’re a family of ogres. So far, I’ve made us out as bigots, racists and communists.

Friday was a strange day. I had a short stint at yooni. The town of Oorban residents were supposedly meeting in St Andrews for lunch before going to meet Pete in Dundee for shopping. I said I was taking no part because of the need to be home for the man who MIGHT have been coming to fix the central heating. I then agreed to have lunch. Lunch took ages so I assumed I’d missed the gas man and then I went to Dundee. Lunch was nice if only slightly ruined by not knowing how the vinegar dispenser worked. I had to eat quickly to ensure the chicken “burger” and its accompaniments were not pickled. JD commented on me being louder and funnier than usual, he has a nerve; I’m always a comedy genius. Someone later passed a similar comment that evening, my behaviour must have been all wrong on Friday.

Saturday passed without incident and only the Celtic vs. Hearts match. I also decided that I want to design fireworks.

I went out for a walk along Leven beach on Sunday morning. On my way back, I bumped into The Canadian who was out on one of his “walks”. What followed could only be compared to the scenes from a new action movie I’m writing based on a character that is a cross between Bill Oddie and James Bond. Thankfully, this did not last for long because it was wrong.

And finally, I’ll recount another example of the local people having no manners or respect for others. I was at the service station, after purchasing fuel for the journey to King Tut’s; I went over to check my tyres. I pulled up to the machine and got out of the car. Whilst I was taking the first dust cap off, a moron on a bicycle, parks between my car and the machine and starts inflating his tyres. He gave no acknowledgement of what he had done, not before, during or after this act of impatience and selfishness. Of course, if he had asked to go first, I would have allowed him to - because I’m a great guy - but it’s not about that.

I’ll report on that Midlake gig tomorrow night. I have to allow time for other people to write their reports first, so I can cut and paste mine together.