Tuesday, May 27, 2003

"I want that back, you bastard!"
The scene: Saturday night: August Dangerlove is sitting on his sofa. I am sprawled next to him, picking my way through a bumper bag of Revels, hoping to find a handful of Maltesers amongst the yucky orange creams. August D, who has so far ignored all the snuffling and chomping and wolfing emanating from my corner of the sofa, accepts the one single chocolate I offer him from the bag. Just before he puts it in his mouth, I'm struck by the utter and absolute conviction that it is a Malteser and I say "If that's a Malteser, I'm going to kill you. I bet there's only one in the whole bag and if you get it, you die." He looks at me, chocolate halfway to his lips. He puts it in his mouth. He bites down on it. The mocking sound of a malty crunch echoes around the room. I howl. He laughs. He doesn't choke. I'm left with the conviction that the only Malteser in the whole bag has gone down his gullet and I'm left with a sack full of orange creams, coffee creams, chocolate peanuts and rock hard caramels.

I cannot forgive him. I cannot.

I finished off the rest betwen shoe shops the following day. That really was the only Malteser. The only Malteser in the whole feckin' bag. Bwah.

In other news, we saw Secretary - and it was very good. Very kinky. Very funny. Surprisingly sweet and lovely. The typing test on the website is quite amusing, though James Spader does not leap out of the screen to slap a saddle on you if you fuck up. Which is a shaem. Whoops. I meant to type: "which is a shame." Hmmm. See the film. Typos will never be the same again.

In other news, the weekend involved home-made Thai curry, shoes, feckin' huge coronary disease-inducing pancakes, shoes, Mussorgsky, Eurovision song contest results (no songs - couldn't have dealt with that after the Malteser affair), going out for quiet drinks in the oddly deserted bars of the West End with newly blonde friend down from Scotland and the usual crew which turned into a rather epic evening, shoes, watching all the Bank Holiday Monday films such as The Prince of Egypt and crying (hungover, hormonal), shoes, watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and laughing (he named himself after the dog!), shoes, more shoes.

Am now back at work. Need more shoes.

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