Oh no! He's just called something the ultimate low! Red reg to the mediasphere! Watch things hurtle towards the plughole, again. On the other hand, I can at least feel relieved that no-one is paying me to watch television I hate.
No, instead, I'm listening to music I love and puzzling through why things are making me irrationally angry when they merely reflect normal human failings. At least that mystery has been solved, but not before I wrote a comic about it, which made me feel a little better. That makes it five comics in the finish-me-now pile now. They'd be weekly if I ever got them finished, you know.
Here's the first two panels of number 1 in that pile, the rest to follow when I've coloured it in, which I hope will be soon.
|the seven rules of sofa club
Well, the first two rules, anyway.
Sofa club was inspired by badasstronaut worrying about staying in; I was lying on the sofa with Facebook open, fairylights on, a glass of wine, and something neat playing on the television. Sofa club seemed like a good place to be.
Tenovertwelvers, your CDs are in the post. I know they'll get to you OK becuase a post office staffer in an Alice in Wonderland costume told me how to use the robot tills. bluedevi, I hope you're coming to the pub tomorrow, because yours is in an envelope marked "by hand". Today I finished listening to "Lower State of Consciousness" by oxfordhacker, an amniotic wash of soothing music guaranteed to make your hibernation state peaceful, pleasurable. Standout track, I kid you not, is "Standing outside a broken phone booth with money in my hand" by Primitive Radio Gods. It was so good I nearly walked straight into a cyclist, which would have been embarassing for both of us as she was on the pavement (which is the sensible place to be if you're a cyclist on Kennington Road).
|Lower State of Consciousness