I am being tricked by looky-likeys. I could have sworn I saw Avon Barksdale from ‘The Wire’ waiting for a bus outside the Brixton Academy today.
I have not had much time this week to work on my epic painting ‘Brad Pitt Helped Jail My Evil Dad’, but no doubt I will get the chance at the weekend, what with it being a Bank Holiday. I was hoping to get something done last night, but I arrived home in a bad mood, having caught my bag in the tube doors on the Northern Line and having to be subsequently rescued by a nice young man with an i-pod.
Instead I made myself a sandwich and the Ugly One and I watched ‘Coronation Street’ again. I should feel more disgusted/enraged/deeply saddened at Eileen’s dad, Colin, who has been found to have had an affair with Eileen’s schoolfriend when she was fourteen, and in the process fathering Fitz’s ex-girlfriend – whose name escapes me. I would normally at this point look it up, but to be honest, I’m finding it hard to care.
I’m more fascinated by Amy Barlow’s creepy monobrow, which is the sort of thing you’d expect to find on a fifty year old Turkish kebab-carver, but not on a six year old girl. In our house, we sit in the dark, hold hands and chant ‘Amy Barlow, Frida Kahlo, Amy Barlow, Frida Kahlo’ over and over again, just to keep the evil away.