Thursday, 30 December 2010

Up at the Crack.

A  very small piece of plaster fell from the hall ceiling at 3.30am and woke up the dogs, and me - and the dogs refused to calm down for 10 mins - they have now gone back to bed and are fast asleep... I can't. Watching the 4am TV news.... it isn't even a very interesting day.... at least it isn't cold.

The papers are pretty dull. Lots of criticism, thinly veiled or otherwise, of the Elton/Furnish baby revelation.  In contrast to the Christmas day announcement and subsequent lauding by the BBC ( honestly - it was like the 2nd coming ) many commentators are stating the obvious that it's really rather crass. I have no particular feelings about Elton John other than he's a bit vulgar and over rated - and very self important - Furnish I can't stand - his smug face makes me want to punch him really hard. They have already given the baby ( which is frankly, in this case - just another accessory ) a stupid name.... but apparently Liz Hurley is very supportive... so that's OK then.

I've just watched a 5 min interview with Seal ( yeah - Seal... remember him... ) and cannot for the life of me figure out why he was invited. His only contribution to humanity, apart from a couple of dreary records ( vocals only, mind you ) in the last 20 years has been to marry the astonishingly crap X model, Heidi Klum. Their actual lives seem to be one long parade of parties, holidays and 'renewing their vows every year'. I'm at a loss to understand why we are supposed to give a fuck about these people.

Just watched another news report about the Irish water crisis. This is an odd one.

Massive freeze = frozen pipes + big thaw = burst pipes.... hardly Einstein. 

Yes, it's a bit of a crisis if you don't have water, large parts of the globe have been struggling with that one for millenia - but it's not the end of the world. The people being interviewed are fascinating - half of them in crisis mode in hospitals etc, and half of them staggeringly dim. One woman was crying her eyes out, inconsolable because he had a bust pipe in her house on Xmas eve. Well, a bit of lagging helps - but nobody died, she was making a huge drama out of it, crying, shaking, blubbing, clutching her tissue and descending into madness... "lunch is ruined" she said. Another man was incadescent with rage because "after all... we take water for granted"... yep, that's my point. Reminds me of the TV program I watched once about the Bascastle floods, a bloke was videotaping the water rising in his house - "now it's up to the DVD... now it's up to the TV... everything's ruined..." - why not just put the camera down and take all your expensive stuff upstairs?

All rather crass on the day of the 70th anniversary of the worst night of the London Blitz.

Several of my neighbours have now had their gardens block paved as hard standing ( when I say several - I think it's 6 or 7 ). Not only does this deprive the area of the pleasure of gardens - but it means fresh rainwater is now directed into the drainage system - and not the water table. This increases the strain ( and it's barely coping ) and leads to all sorts of problems - like subsidence - and frankly, makes your house look shit with your tacky sports car outside - you twats. It's the housing equivalent of getting your teeth veneered on the cheap. My neighbours have a leaking overflow at the back of their house - it's been spewing water for about 6 weeks - it drives me absolutly fucking mad - stupid, stupid waste - on top of that - they have a water feature in the garden they never use, a big metal ball that has a trickle over it all day and all night. Might have to administer some divine retribution of my own.

I read a rather odd little story about Lauren Booth in the Mail - I'm no fan of Ms Booth - or her fucking awful sister Cherie - I think they are both better off out of the public eye - but this one was quite interesting... Lauren Booth is a bit of a wild card, as a journalist she was crap and as a celebrity she was even worse - if she didn't have a famous sister we would never have heard of her. She recently converted to Islam after some kind of epiphany, I thought at the time she might be having a breakdown, no offence to the religion - but she had the deluded, babbling, misty eyed zeal of the rabid convert that you usually get in manic depressives. I knew that her husband had nearly died in an accident and had spent the last year recovering his faculties - that her marriage had ended and that her dream if living in a farmhouse in France was in financial tatters - so I just assumed she was 'going through a bad patch' and clutching at something positive.

I read today that she has been declared bankrupt - which is actually quite difficult for someone with earning power like hers - and was living with her children in a rented flat in Maida Vale ( quelle horreur!). It seems one of her creditors was her sister - who, after a personal, written approach last year ( they really don't get on so that must have been galling ) loaned her £15,000 with the express direction that it was a short term loan  - supported by a 15 page document that was signed in the presence of a solicitor. Multi-Multi-Multi Millionare Cherie, who is famed for her miserly, money motivated ways - is said to hate her sister because she was so critical of the war in the Gulf, and it's indicated that she was the driving force behind the bankruptcy - which wouldn't surprise me. My point is, if you lend someone money - personally.... you should write it off straight away, or not lend it in the first place - because it always ends in tears.

Nobody I have ever lent money to has ever paid me back. I think that's the general rule. I have always paid people back on the odd occasions I have loaned money - but only because that's the kind of person I am and I would not be able to sleep at night for fear of what they might think of me - I can't even bear to be one pint down in the pub. A few years ago a guy who was one of my best friends came to see me because he was about to exchange contracts on a house with his wife and had lied to her about the amount of cash he had ( he had a huge tax bill ) - and if he told her, the whole thing would collapse around him. They had very little cash - it was their first home and I was also a big mate of his other half. He had had a lot of problems with his health that he had come through and, at the time, I could afford to help him. He's never paid me back - but in the time between they have had 2 children and he has battled serious illness and nearly died, and spent months in a coma in hospital after having a stroke - and now has an electrical device in his head to stop him from fitting. I hardly ever see either of them now - partly because he's so embarrassed about the money, there is no way he can pay me back and he knows I really could do with the cash - and it's ruined our friendship ( we are still friendly - but it's not the same ). I've never asked for the money, and I've never even considered asking - not because I want you to think I'm some kind of humanitarian saint - but because I just can't... what kind of person would that make me? I'm the one who has to look in the mirror every day. Mind you - I have loaned money to people who are just turn out to be cunts...

The person most creeping me out today is the landlord of the dead landscape architect who insists he saw her and two other people talking in hushed tones... he just looks 'wrong'.

edit: after I wrote this, I took the dogs out for a long walk - by the time I got back - the police had arrested the landlord and charged him with murder. I have to say... he does 'look' a bit scary, or Gary Glitter-ish - if you know what I mean. It's interesting that the newspapers shifted their attention to him yesterday and went to a lot of trouble to get his picture - never underestimate how well informed the press are... It's almost obvious, really. There were loads of CCTV sightings of her on her way home, shopping and stuff - but none of her ever actually leaving the house, and she would have had to voluntarily opened the door to someone she knew - they also don't say if her flat had an internal door - which means someone must have had access to a porch - or at least been able to find the right entrance. ( Christ - I sound like one of the Miss Marple wannabee's that post on the Daily Mail site now!)

 - by the way, while I was walking the dogs on barley Lane we saw something scary - a life size stuffed gorilla lying in the garden of a house, in the half light I thought it was a man's body. Both dogs growled at it. Finding a dead body when dog walking is my greatest fear - and I do know someone who has found one.....

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