Thursday, December 11, 2008

Not hitting bottles

The world is clear, cold, frosty and diamond white. I am seeing clearly through the mist and star light thanks to an uncompromising diet of fruit corner yogurts, big Kit Kats, microwave foodstuff and the occasional fresh vegetable coupled with my flat on back sleeping technique and a lot of running up and down staircases.

The days leading up to what some in the west describe as the Christmas season has so far been almost healthy and pretty much alcohol free - since Sunday. Not sure I feel any better overall, probably because as you get older some body functions become odd and less efficient. Shaving cuts are generally disastrous events requiring the pressure of Desperate Dan type thumbs on the leaking chin to stem the flow. I could illustrate other related things by describing staccato piccolo playing or the uneven flow of cat food from a squeezed sachet (but I won't bother) - or the gases produced by a Greek Pizza oven left on overnight and the hissing breath of a black Prussian locomotive steaming out of Belgrade Station.

One nice side effect is that I can no longer eat three mincemeat pies in a row, drink a whole pint of milk or scoff a packet of Jacobs Fruit Clubs. In some strange way I am now at peace with (very small parts of) the world and comfortable in my own wrinkly skin.

Did you notice that the girl in the photo also has two mouths?

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