Sinister: "I thought I could do it in 30 seconds, but she proved me wrong"

[Caitlin Pigtails]

I laid on my sofa in my PJs this morning, rereading a Douglas Coupland 
novel and watching swallows circle the blue sky.  I suddenly realised 
that everything I could see from that position outside the window, 
other than the sky, was grey or beige -- the wall that runs alongside 
the road, and the other buildings of the housing scheme.  The sky, 
though, was bright blue.

Yesterday was Picnic Day, because Big Gay Mark was up in Scotland 
visiting everyone.  We all trooped along to West 13th and stole each 
other's chips.  Mark asked us all how long it takes to have a wank, and 
the boys decided they wanted to play football.  Everyone else followed 
to watch, except Carey who wanted to sit on her own in the pub.  The 
boys footballed and got all sweaty, I played Tig with idleberry and 
danny, and Belle had to be protected from an amorous beagle.

I wanted to do something intellectual, and write a pastiche, or an 
acrostic post which spelt out something apt or delightful.  That would 
be too much like work on a sunny Sunday, though.  Instead I read a 
book, and found something which really sums up my attitude to food 
shopping:

"I saw this documentary about how codfish have been gill-netted into 
extinction in Newfoundland in Canada, so I went out to Burger King to 
get a Whaler fishwich-type breaded deep-fried filet sandwich while 
there was still time." (Douglas Coupland, still).

After the footballers got tired and/or needed the loo, we wandered over 
to the Tap on Sauchiehall Street, so we could play pool.  The pool 
tables were crowded though, so we took over the other half of the bar 
instead.  Various couples got romantic, and there was lots of 
under-table thigh-stroking going on.  The normals in the pub pointed 
and laughed.  We all mingled and wandered around a bit, and talked - at 
least until a loud DJ arrived, and all we could do was shout at the 
people nearest.

When I'm in the supermarket, I look at the fish fridge and I see 
re-formed oven-crisp-battered lumps of cod and haddock.  I think: "but 
the North Sea is almost a biological desert! Cod and haddock are close 
to extinction."  Then, I think: "which means that in five years I won't 
be able to get *any* oven-crisp battered fish, with all the bones 
whipped out.  Give it to me now!"  I'm a greedy bitch, the same as 
nearly everyone.

Eventually, I had to go and get the train home, so me and Danny 
wandered off to the Low Level line and packed into a train along with 
hundreds of Rod Stewart fans.  I didn't think any of them were sexy.  I 
wonder what happened at the picnic after I left.

Incidentally, Sweetie told me that she went into Burger King, and asked 
for a cheeseburger.  "Um," said the spotty-faced teenage assistant.  
Stereotyping, me?  Yes, as you asked, I *can* use two keyboards at 
once.  Anyway.  "Um," said the assistant, "we're out of burgers."  It's 
really not what you expect from somewhere called Burger King.  I can 
understand rival fast-food chains saying things like "Sorry, we're all 
out of scary white-faced paedophile clowns."  I guess there's a warning 
to us all here.

God knows what it actually is, though.


love
xx
caitlin



--
http://www.joannou.net/topofthestairs/

"When life gives us lemons, we just sit there and sulk about it, in the
  corner of the room, in a fetal position."
         - Matthew Henderson, on the Sinister mailing list.

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