August 28th, 2019


Holy Feckin' Shit...

Not even going to bother ranting about Boris'  'shut down Parliament' prank. I was praying that the Queen would earn her keep and tell him NO; better still,  bung him in the Tower, but it looks like he'll get away with it.
Another gruesome night of tossing and turning. It still feels like a pressure cooker in the flat, and it's humid, but the temperature's lower and there's a bit of breeze. Nice.
The splendid Kathy Burke's ALL WOMAN series provided some amusing distraction.  I do envy and admire her seemingly really  not giving a monkey's what anyone thinks of her, especially looks-wise. Good for her.
I was dreaming about Orson Welles again, or rather a cartoonish version of him, a bit like a 'Hirschfield' caricature. I was in a big hall rehearsing something, and he was wandering around checking  out on the show's progress. Every time he passed me, he hitched an eyebrow and glared at me with disdain.
I binged out on EUPHORIA  in my despair about the world. Must admit, it keeps you watching. I want to see what happens. I quite like Jules, but the other kids are all so stupid and repellent... The boy playing creepy baddie Nate is a very good actor.
I met that weird little old man from the estate who I run into every few months. He always says. 'You're looking nice and slim. (yeah-) You lost a LOTTA weight!'
It feels almost cool, now, and I'm looking forward to a decent  night's sleep...if I can keep my mind off Brexit, etc. etc.