Chapter Two wrote:
This morning I apologised to one of my colleagues for being weird the night before, saying that sometimes things just have to be said. She said that it wasn't weird and that it's nice to be told nice things.

Just now another colleague came in and told me that last night he put his mobile phone up his girlfriend. Cheers Kev.

He had to be called kev as well.

(I had to hold the coffee in my mouth without spitting it out) laughter.

A good day. The light is incredible. Everything is sharp, clean, tight. You could point a camera lens anywhere and have perfect, saturated 70s Kodachrome moment.

I met my French ex-work buddy Fred for lunch and returned the hilarious 80s Roland Octapad he'd lent me to have a splash around on. We drove aimlessly through the metal bashing district to find a random pub (the last time we did this we came across a tragic little place in landlocked Birmingham with a nautical theme, it had a huge net full of plastic starfish tacked to the roof over the bar).

We fetched up next to a scrap yard near the HP sauce factory and over Guinness and orange juice and amid much catching up talked about France, England, cheese, David Lee Roth, our warm but strained relationships with our brothers. He told me a story about a guy his wife works with who has effectively held her company ransom by changing server and software passwords. He's recently been busted by police after an incredible string of frauds, unbelievable stuff. We planned to meet up soon for an evening of cooking and making a racket in his basement and maybe sort out that day of fishing we're always talking about.

The pub was a bit strange. A couple were having a weird, subdued row on the next table, arguing with vigour but trying not to be overheard. The only other visitor was a slightly shell-shocked looking guy who wandered in wearing overalls with a face blackened with oil. All the while Supertramp's greatest hits played in the background.

The Red Arrows just did a perfect loop-the-loop above the city during their lunch-time practice.

The wind has taken the smoke from their smoke-things and blown it into an 'A' in honour of me. 'Adam' being my name.

Salut, Red Arrows!

I need a pee. Right now.

swimming at carleton university now costs $4 so i need to steal someone's ID

this lady at work marks all of her emails as 'urgent', even if it's random things like 'building power will be shut off between 2:00 and 2:05am while maintenance is being conducted'

As I look down onto my desktop I can see someone has written in 3-D biro lettering:

"CLAIRE FONTAINE IS THICK AS SHIT!"

Me and the other three members of my little team here at the library had a discussion about Northern Soul. Our anges range from about 22 to about 58. We've also been singing songs and trying to work out who sang them.

If the day is a period of 24 hours rather than the hours of daylight thus far, which I know is cheating, I informed some of my friends that I have decided to get an acoustic set together, and go it alone.

I also had a shit that had a big old cashew nut in it that has torn the flesh of my arse.

I walked past a pile-it-high-sell-it-cheap electrical hardware/ordnance and survivalist store and was quietly amused by a product in the window. A 'high output pond fogger'. Evidently the world has gone mad.

A little later I watched a blind man cross the road. Waiting for the green pedestrian sign to flash I saw him fumble around under the control box and mirrored his actions (he'll not see me) on my side of the road. There exists a tactile indicator - a knurled spur - that rotates before the safe to cross bleeps sound. UK residents, this is going on right under your noses.

A little five-pound dog is at my place for a short visit.

I woke up in the middle of last night/this morning, got up, and when I settled back to lie down again, he climbed in to the crook of my arm, rested himself against my body, and went immediately back to sleep.

i got a hair cut yesterday.

somehow, during the conversation with the barber-girl i managed to make a disparaging remark against hippies.

she told me she was offended by this as she considered herself a hippy. i told her that i disagreed with her as she didn't seem like a hippy to me. she asked me why and i said that she smelled good, was doing a great job on my hair, and had too much "style" to be a hippy. (all of this was true, by the way).

after much discussion, the haircut took a turn for the better and she offered a "rinse-job". i accepted and even felt a smidge randy. i gave her a good tip and felt good about humanity.