Monday, 21 February 2011

No It Doesn't Work

I found the boys' floor. Wish I hadn't. Filthy it was.

I sellotaped every games box we possess. Even threw some of them away. But they were quickly rediscovered.

I shouted at hooligans smothering every inch of floor-space in the living room with freshly sellotaped-in games. Wondered what was the point of my existence. Did this aloud. Very loud. Hid away and did it quieter. Just the soft sound of chocolate caramels being sucked into submission and faint sobbing.

I noisily tipped frozen things on a blackened metal thing and slid it into the oven thing and then pulled it all out again when the frozen things had turned into burnt things. Then just as noisily tipped these brown things onto chipped round things and called it dinner.

I did all this in arctic conditions as our boiler had screeched and ground to a standstill again so that I had to turn off every switch I could find. Then I picked up an unopened white envelope from the stained kitchen counter that had been slapped down there a couple of days ago with a hurried sneer. Well, I thought to my grumpy cold self, I may as well open it now. I couldn't get any more pissed off.....

WHEN will I learn?

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