Looking to avoid the cost of Mr Dyno-Rod, I
spent most of yesterday morning trying to unblock our drain. Unsuccessfully.
I have a bruised and swollen forearm from trying to reach
down the bloody thing and still imagine I can smell its vomity-oily smell,
despite the two showers and bath I’ve had since.
Mid-work today I ran out of printer toner and have spent and
hour and a half trawling round local shops looking for a replacement. They
haven’t got one right now, but they can order one in.
There’s only cheese for lunch.
My life is impossibly glamorous.
This calls for 80s indie.
The Flatmates – ‘Heaven Knows (Tranquiliser Mix)’ (1988)
There is no situation, good or bad, where the answer is 80s Indie, surely??!
ReplyDeleteOh, I can think of a great many.
ReplyDeleteOk, lets have a few scenarios.
ReplyDeleteYou're stuck in a tower block, wearing only a vest and your trousers. What 80s Indie is the answer?
You're in a hotel bar and Beatrice Dalle circa 1988 is asking you to come back to her room for some no strings attached sex. What 80s Indie is the answer?
You've forgotten your wedding anniversary. What 80s Indie is the answer?
I'm feeling a new blog coming on...80s Indie Is The Answer
Forgot the terrorists in the tower block scenario. Die Hard is a much smaller film if Willis was just stuck in a tower block.
ReplyDeleteYour scenarios are way too romantic.
ReplyDeleteMy imagined ones all involve Mothers Pride sandwiches, tea stains and drizzle.
Maybe 'I Don't Owe You Anything' for the forgotten wedding anniversary.
ReplyDeleteFor the Beatrice Dalle situation, 'You Can't Moan Can You' by The Wedding Present.
ReplyDeleteMy imagined ones all involve Mothers Pride sandwiches, tea stains and drizzle.
ReplyDeleteThat calls for The Beautiful South, surely.
Poor you, smelly arm. The veterinary up our way has a similar affliction. Always has his sleeve rolled up and I never shake his hand.
ReplyDeleteAnd now the sunshine's gone until April, Simon's clearly been taken roughly from behind by that Seasonal Awkward Disorder thing.
In fact 'Take Me!' by The Wedding Present may also fit the Beatrice conundrum. (A right old pickle .. which I can't seem to get out of my head).
And what's cataclysmic about being stuck in a tower block lift in only a vest and trousers? Standard fare in freshers week methinks. (NO vest. Now that would be a concern - leading to a possible chill on the kidneys).
And if I was stuck in a tower block lift with just Bruce Willis, then I would take my own life by stringing myself up with his oily vest.
Funnily enough Dickie, Mis't'Herriot came to my mind yesterday. A cow's arse would have been easier, I reckon.
ReplyDeleteYou poor lamb! (No that's not right either). Did you see that lambs are being born again in Oct following a week of sunshine? (When I say 'born again', I don't mean in some kind of er, lamb of God kinda way). Anyway ...
ReplyDeleteAs you may have guessed, the only vet I see in Leeds (which has no fields in it whatsoever) charges me 40 notes for a cursory glance at my Guinea Pig's bollocks.
At least you weren't in Dundee!
ReplyDeleteThat Beatrice Dalle thing isn't a situation that is my idea of heaven and if you throw in a plain Mother's Pride and some lorne sausage . . . well
Beatrice Dalle calls for Bogshed.
ReplyDeleteOr maybe My Bloody valentine- soft as snow but warm inside comes to mind.
ReplyDelete'Only Shallow'
ReplyDeleteI hope someone is liking The Flatmates?
ReplyDeletesorry to embarrass you by the razorcuts springs to mind. and convenience by bob obviously.
ReplyDeletei can smell you from here by the way. try rubbing lemon juice on it like susan sarandon did in atlantic city. you never know who might be watching
x
Followed by Cigarette in my bed obviously. lemon juice- ugh
ReplyDeleteNot with my allergies.
ReplyDeleteAll those Ms A, yes x