Though most of the day has been spent packing, I did have to go to work to pick up the season ticket Ive bought through our loan scheme.
The most expensive thing Ive ever part owned now sits in the front pocket of my bag, in a flimsey plastic holder. Its only about five centrimetres by only about nine, made of incredibly thin cardboard, and frankly I would have thought that if youre charging people a small matter of several thousand English pounds for a small piece of cardboard, you might think about laminating it.
Or at least putting a pretty picture on it. Maybe a nudey picture. You could probably get quite a good one for a few thousand pounds.
Or maybe an optimistic little fortune cookie-esque message. A really bloody astute one.
Or a piece of modern art. Well, I mean, it could actually *be* a piece of modern art, I suppose. Its very difficult to tell. It could be a piece of modern art called
Sorry, I just have to say, my beloved, who is just over there, packing, has just stopped, gazed at the Disneyland advert on television and asked Why does no one ever talk about the fact that Beauty and the Beast is basically a celebration of bestiality?, which I think is a bloody good question, and has put me off my thread completely
Moving house. Not quite as fun as you remember, is it?