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Hello, f-list. I am typing this with one hand, while holding one of my mother's caramelised pineapple tartlets in the other. Delicious! Also, I am watching channel GO!'s Saturday movie, which is ¡Three Amigos!. So I am a happy daisy, full of exclamation marks. Or I would be if the ad that's currently on wasn't the Motor Finance Wizard jingle.
Before this, I saw some of the Australian Open tennis. They had this little filler piece, showing Andre Agassi reminiscing in black and white about his early days. He said one of his earliest memories was of going to the courts one day, opening his eyes and seeing a sea of tennis balls. I don't know why he had his eyes closed before he got there. Anyway, this statement was illustrated by... a lot of tennis balls floating on the ocean. I don't think that's what he meant.
This time of year brings the speedway to the City by the Sea. Some sort of motor race thing. I don't know. It's like prostate cancer: it's a big deal for some people but it doesn't affect me at all. I only know it's happening because there's a motel around the corner from me that has a parking area large enough for their trucks. That's fine. They've got to park somewhere.
The front page of yesterday's local paper, though, had one of the drivers being outraged — OUTRAGED! — because he had parked his truck over someone's driveway and they had complained to the police, who visited the driver and asked him to move off the driveway. And today's texts to the editor are filled with people complaining about the complainer, because these drivers bring a lot of money into the local economy and we should be nice to them. Up to and including let them block us into our houses, apparently.
In the gardening section of the paper today, someone said that the first instinct of people with a rose is to smell it. Is it? I mean, I do smell them, but is it instinct? Or memory of previous roses? Hmm.
Before this, I saw some of the Australian Open tennis. They had this little filler piece, showing Andre Agassi reminiscing in black and white about his early days. He said one of his earliest memories was of going to the courts one day, opening his eyes and seeing a sea of tennis balls. I don't know why he had his eyes closed before he got there. Anyway, this statement was illustrated by... a lot of tennis balls floating on the ocean. I don't think that's what he meant.
This time of year brings the speedway to the City by the Sea. Some sort of motor race thing. I don't know. It's like prostate cancer: it's a big deal for some people but it doesn't affect me at all. I only know it's happening because there's a motel around the corner from me that has a parking area large enough for their trucks. That's fine. They've got to park somewhere.
The front page of yesterday's local paper, though, had one of the drivers being outraged — OUTRAGED! — because he had parked his truck over someone's driveway and they had complained to the police, who visited the driver and asked him to move off the driveway. And today's texts to the editor are filled with people complaining about the complainer, because these drivers bring a lot of money into the local economy and we should be nice to them. Up to and including let them block us into our houses, apparently.
In the gardening section of the paper today, someone said that the first instinct of people with a rose is to smell it. Is it? I mean, I do smell them, but is it instinct? Or memory of previous roses? Hmm.