Checked out two posters at I liked at the market. very decent. One's of ol' Morrison and the blues-acid rock band, and the other of none other than the Stones. As gritty as ever, it's an ol 70s snap, when the ol' boys were just boys. I've called home and mum's bringing my Exile on Main Street poster, along with the necessary linen and the general details to pull the place.
I'm sort of thrilled. I paid the money yesterday. Fat Man has left the place, and avoided all sort of dealings going through a broker -- who would have skimmed off more money. I paid a decent lump sum -- as you have to on the first go -- but things seem sorted out.
Once Big Surd's back from Chandi, I get a whole lot of my wardrobe back to the new place. You see he's been ill, after his job got the better out of him. And he just fled town without tellin anyone cause he was so sick (sick in both terms.) His office's pretty desperate to get people -- a lot have left, some are joining or have joined my rut -- so they tried to coax me as well. But it doesn't make sense.
If I'm out -- I'll make sure I'm out.
Meanwhile, Nicks seems to be making a lot of sense lately. I'm not following what she says though -- but when I at least nod my head, it comes out of some approval.
I sort of feel sleepy a lot these days, I've been, somewhat willingly, on the morning now for the 3rd week. You see I get the afternoon.
A crazy thing, but thought I'd let you know. And one more thing now that we're a bit sentimental about being frank -- you listen and get written well dear bloggie. The other day I picked up a notebook to fill sometime at the coffee shack, so I started penning this story. Hope it makes sense, cause at the moment I seem to be just filling the pages.
Okay I'll head to do some work...