Stars, the Supremes and get off my roof.

The weak just whooshed by, what with all my charity work… the neighbors would fail without me to compare themselves too. The role I play is that of the really, dumb fat socially inept best friend, that you alway want to be seen with so that by comparison you look drop dead gorgeously thin, intelligent and faux pax-less when in fact it is all an act on my behalf; I can puff myself up like a bullfrog. Intellectually I can force the IQ level way up and the chronological age way down or vice versa…well on the street where I live, but it keeps them happy (the neighbors), the hormone levels in balance (ditto) if maybe gender detached. There are some very strange looking tranvestites; on the street where I live

Let’s get the stars out of the way first…. they lied. My substantial increase in wealth didn’t arrive unless you count the $3.19 miscalculation by my bank…by thursday my lucky colour was:beige. Next week I hit the tea leaves, altho I am developing a system for reading cork crumbs at the base of a wine glass: a great deal of research has gone into this phenomena this week, tho’ as the week progressed and the substantial increase in wealth appeared not to be looking ‘too flash’ I went from imported to domestic to trying the technique on chateax cardboard.

On Wednesday, the new house cleaners arrived, yes they are and yes it is. They came in the form of 3 and they did a brilliant job, ‘well he would say that’ having not been able to blackmail even the local sexual deviant into cleaning for me. There was the Diana Ross person who egoed the proceedings and the two semi backing singers who whizzed around, not unlike rocketmen with back pack vacs. The effect was very noisy,much akin to having a hornet trapped in both eardrums…. The only downside was I had a collection of roaches on top of a paint tin in the laundry: I was intending to do some personal recombinant DNA research with them later in the day as I could even at this stage see where the day was heading: they apparently got sucked into Cindy Birdsongs back pack and I feel would have lost some of my upmarket credibility to have ripped the vacuum cleaner from her back and done an internal lint-o-nectomy on it…..MEANWHILE up on the roof was the roof cleaner…totally unrelated to the supremes… a ‘friend’ who though he was being paid insisted on doing it ala Sinatra (I do it my way). Now it has been claimed around the neighborhood that I can exhibit minor control freak tendencies HAH! as if!! … the day degenerated as the roof boot scooting increased in volume. I fled for the Valium stock, topped up with my research on wine cork reading thingy and things eased themselves down-ish. At some point I was accused of speaking in tongues I did some inspired design work, which the next day only required me to figure out which way was up.

The supremes return in a fortnight……. I am ready; the boot scooter returns on Monday (only half finished) and I am not ready. We are hoping for a disaster to intervein…. otherwise I will be sticking something there as a coping mechanizm.

Oh visitors last night and overnight…AND suprise of surprises next night as well:god how come my stars didn’t see that coming?…. I will up date this one next blagging: ‘come back boot scooting roof man..a day earlier’.

The week is not looking good (according to the bottom of the bottle where apparently my favorite colour is, sauvignon blanc) . Could it get worse? well yes actually, bookclub happens on Thursday morning. I’m going to suggest the braille version of the Karma Sutra.. crack out the rusty razor blades.

~ by attributi on May 4, 2008.