I am entirely devoid of interest tonight. I spent the day sitting shivering, whippet like, at my desk in my coat with a cat's arse face, on the very edge of being sick (Belgoknee drugs. So good, so unkind to one's stomach lining). Very fetching, very good company. I shouldn't bother blogging, since I have nothing whatsoever to say. However! If only that stopped me. I tried to work out what on earth I had been doing today. This was all I came up with. Sorry. I seem to believe I have to commit something to the page, however unedifying.
Topics of conversation* in the throbbing centre of Belgium today:
Belgian serial killers
- Their existence and arrest
- Are there in fact enough people in Belgium to merit a serial killer? Can you really be a serial killer in Belgium when there are so few people to kill? Tangentially, how come Belgians are good at tennis?
Unlikely to lead to a fulfilling lovelife. And not just because of the high likelihood of static electric shocks.
The speaking voice of a walnut.
Somerset? Or more Dorset? Interestingly (I use this word extremely loosely), this conversation started in September.
Mechanical and electrical graphite, versus Monochloroacetic Acid.
This, my friends, is the day job. Czech colleague and I were very politely NOT squabbling about which of these would be more fun. We are so reasonable.**
CEO (not to be confused with the CFO) sex
Whether my friend's employer would be terrible in bed. Conclusion: yes. Due to his air of vague, not entirely comprehensible menace and poor communication skills.
Bizarre, inexplicable Twitter friendships
I can't be more specific.
Is a Nespresso machine very wrong?
Particularly if you haven't seen your phone bill from Christmas yet? How can you present it to yourself so it sounds less wrong, and more like a dull but essential household necessity?
Liza Minelli's knee
If she has a new one, why can't I?
Christine Lagarde/Patty Hewes
Whether the French Finance minister was the model for Glenn Close's character in Damages.
(and incidentally, isn't that a terrifying picture? Like one of those iconic, folk art portraits of Stalin. She's glowing with Sarkozist virtue)
(Health Warning: The law is not like Damages. You will spend several years in windowless rooms with dusty boxes of documents fighting other interns for the biscuits. Noone will send you to Bloomingdales with a blank cheque to buy clothes. Thank you. )
The mysterious bodysnatching properties of my mattress
Whoops there goes any semblance of a life I might have been starting to muster, eaten by a rectangle of foam.
My assistant is from Nottingham, I am from York. She sent me this, and we marvelled, reverently, respectfully, over it.
What have you been talking about today? Anything more exciting than me?
*Obviously I use this term loosely as most of the people I converse with live in the computer.
** They are as bad as each other. No need to fight.