Sinister: Turns out my subconscious would fit in well in Sinister Village...

Nik Ovenden nik_ovenden at xxx.com
Wed May 31 14:45:49 BST 2000


Dear lords and ladies,
well, what a day.  and it's only halfway through.  You
know when you get those days when you wish that
lobotomies could be free to all on the NHS?  maybe
this is just me, but i need some amnesia medicine
(commonly known as alcohol) to cope with the days
events.
Sorry for those of you who hate the "you'll never
guess what happened to me today..." emails, but i was,
well, part-informed to do so.
At 4am today, i woke with my girlfriend to a perculiar
predicament.  Somehow, her skirt had wended its way
from her bag to my waist, while asleep.  Part-drowsy,
i turned to her and said "do i have your skirt on?"
suggesting that i may be wrong.  Unfortunately, it
proved i was not wrong.  She then laughed for at least
an hour before we managed to return to the green
fields of foreverland...while i lay humbled.
That ain't the worst bit.  I cannot entirely remember
how i did it.  odds are i put it on as it was the best
thing to hide my equipment while i went to the loo. 
At worst, i could've slept-walked to my parents
room...ho hum.
The skirt wasn't bad, i'm not slamming the skirt, it's
just...disarming to wake up, unaware of your events
whilst asleep.

But that's not all; from here it gets murky.  One of
my mates arrived to pay £90 for our flat at the
edinburgh festival, and i pretty much openly
humiliated my girlfriend.  Not just mild, either. 
Full-blown "if your mate wasn't here i'd chop off your
bollocks and shove them up your ass" rage humiliation.
 Then, for the next 4 hours, i sat, feeling incredibly
guilty (the guilt where you feel that popping yourself
is the only way to a: regain sanity and b: rid the
world of another stupid tosser)
Well...then i saw here off, feeling incredibly guilty,
sad, depressed (i hate depression, it's such a sodding
useless feeling.  It makes me want to smash things and
dance) plus other adjectives, then when she was gone,
i popped up to the post office to get bolognese sauce
(for penne...mmm) and an icecream for my little
brother.

You think that's all?  not so!  I arrived at the post
office to find it locked. Fine, wednesday afternoon,
half-day closing for the p.o, especially out here in
the sticks.
Unfortunately, the shop was dark and an alarm was
ringing.  Does bad karma pay itself off in one lump
sum PLUS interest, or what?!
so, i had to sprint home and call the police.  Not
999, mind you, as i saw no criminal on the premises. 
So i call the local number:
"okay sir, i'll patch you through to 999".
2 minutes later:
"sorry sir, i'll try another line".  FECK FECK FECK,
by this point i'm visualising some cockless worm
cutting up our post office people.  Not nice, when you
see the owners of the shop daily, to find their shop
locked with a siren wailing.
Anyway, the police have despatched a car, taken my
name and number, so i'm expecting a call soon.
Plus, the sodding post office number is ex-directory!
how sodding useless is that?! a SHOP with an
ex-directory phone number!!!!!
Anyway, no alkypops for me till the bobbies have been
round or they'll think i've been at the old bottle too
much.

I'm off to die quietly...maybe after making some
pancakes, if i can find plain flour.  Be my sodding
luck if i have any at all...
cheers for caring (or not, it's nice to type shit for
20 minutes,)
niko
xxx

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