Ordinary World

Well, finally got all my bits and bobs back together, after my handbag robbing. Managed to replace my simcard, and get my old number back (yeh) although am still without the actual phone to put it in! It's quite lucky that I have an innocent looking face as my old sim card had been owned by various members of my family, and was registered under my mum's name, with my sister's date of birth, and the security password was the name of my rabbit that died about eight years ago! I proved basically incapable of answering any of the questions asked of me, but looking like a sad victim of crime, the man in the phone shop agreed to get me my old number back anyway heh heh heh. I borrowed a work phone to check the simcard and then got three phone calls in a row for a bloke called "Christophe". I presume Christophe, the utter cnut, is the new owner of my stolen phone. I tried to subtly invagle some more information from the people on the end of the line, but they clammed up faster than you could say "you thieving bint" and by the time I'd determined that I was going to launch into a curse-strewn tirade against the next person ringing me, the phonecalls stopped. Boooooo. Hope you enjoyed your hot goods, Christophe, and that it doesn't bother your conscious that they were robbed off me!

As for this weekend, it started with some disappointment. Was expecting a visit from Withnail, which I was thoroughly looking forward to. But all my various means of trying to get hold of him (having lost his contact number to that f**kwit Christophe) failed, and he didn't turn up in any case. My only logical route of getting his number (as Withnail doesn't have regular internet access) was to email Foe and ask him. Foe, with whom my relationship is somewhat interesting, singularly failed to reply to either of my emails. I am fairly certain he must be away, rather than deliberately causing me bother, but he couldn't have chosen a worse time to be off the radar. Right up to Saturday morning, I had a haunting feeling that Withnail might have booked flights but not been able to contact me, although given that any logical person would read their snail mail and find some internet access, to check their emails, in that situation, I can only conclude that Withnail was never coming, and in his own rather endearingly vague fashion just forgot to tell me. If I had the techie knowledge, here, I would paste in a little smiley with rolling eyes.

However, weekend definitely improved as the 'Ding match I had planned to miss, I got to go to, and low and behold we beat Liverpool 3-1. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Shallow it may be but a good footie result has the ability to improve my mood tenfold, and I walked away from the Mad Stad feeling very pleased about the world, and my place in it. In the winter months, when there is barely enough light to keep your brain functioning, and your bed is cold and lonely, it seems the world wants to make you ordinary.

Well, Christophe, you are probably quite ordinary. The thieving bitch who stole my bag, you are definitely ordinary. But fuck you all, I will never be ordinary!!