HUGE maths test in school today. It was a 40-question behemoth over 30 minutes which is, like, 7 questions a minute and at the end my brain was like wet socks.
Against all expectations, I have chosen to go to the Halloween disco (normally discos are too hot and noisy for me). Every kid likes it at age 6 when you can put on some skeleton or witch outfit straight out of the supermarket and roam the mean streets collecting bucketfuls of sweeties for looking cute.
And already the shops have that special seasonal section full of green-haired Frankensteins and zombies and skelibobs which are just stretchy black onesies with plastic don't-glow-in-the-dark bones glued onto the front. But when you get to my advanced age, they look totally tacky and frankly embarrassing. As next year I'll be at secondary school, it'll be completely beneath me so this is the last chance: and I've gone for a new look from another of my favourite films. A couple of years ago I went as the Terminator and didn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear as I filled my choccy bucket, this time I'll have to say Give me my detonators or Yippee-ki-yay Feather Duster or something. Anyway, my original gun from 2014 is knackered, half of the bits have fallen off and the rat-tat-tat noise has been reduced to a gentle grinding by depleted batteries. Any idea how difficult it is to buy a decent MP5 in this market? Nobody's seen Nick the Greek since he flogged those 2 old shooters last year ...
And I practised my speech for church. This biblical excerpt is from Revelations where the author has clearly been under pressure to perform, possibly pressure of wine, mushrooms, and not getting enough fresh air. He goes on about sharp sickles a lot, and gets his angels all mixed up, poor chap.
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