Why am I so filled with ennui? Lethargic, apathetic, and with a cough that can really clear a room (I experimented with this at last night's screening of Harry Potter: The Final One, Bitches. Interestingly, people really love Harry enough to put up with two hours of my phlegm.)
In the last hour I have been making a list on Microsoft Word on what I would pack if there was a zombie plague. It turns out I am no Bear Grylls because I keep accidentally packing things like pewter ornaments with girls stroking unicorns in there. I can't even fake-pack sensibly, what is wrong with me.
What could I take? The first practical thought that comes to mind is a spare change of dry clothes. I'm my mother's daughter, really, no matter how hard I try and cultivate the manic pixie (which wouldn't work because I'm not thin enough to be one. It seems like there should be a weight barrier on manix pixie-ness, doesn't there? Kirsten Dunst in Crazy/Beautiful [and real life], Taryn Manning, MaryKate Olsen, Paz de la Huerta...all skinnies)
Rope, I suppose, a stanley knife - all those things that would literally never come in handy in real life but would be perfect for zombo-apocalypse. A torch? Bin bags? Because if no-one has come to clear my rubbish in a month now, fat chance there'll be someone when night creatures prowl the streets.
Speaking of Harry Potter, Harry Potter review:
It was good. Not as good as the last one, better than the first one with all that shit computer re-imagining of quidditch. I haven't seen the rest. Also, I have a very rational love for Rupert Grint and his terrible, terrible acting.
No comments:
Post a Comment