Rain again, rain again, rain again, rain!

As is the case for many hip modern urbanites, my life seems to consist of long periods of boredom and self-loathing punctuated by brief bursts of frenetic, often booze-fuelled, activity.
In the listless moments in between, I find myself asking questions, like
Why does beauty make you cry?
Should ugliness make you laugh?
What would it be like to be someone else?
Is music the most profound art form?
Where can I get really good fish and chips?
The beginning of the week encourages this sort of enquiry. I think I'll go outside and stand in the rain for a while to cool my philosophical cockles.

What's for dinner, beatch?

Rain, rain, go away

Come again when something happens that rhymes with 'rain'.

Likewise snow, snow, please just go...

What is the internet for?

Things like this, I suppose.

http://hughgrantsquidtest.blogspot.com/

Bus journey

I was on the bus a couple of days ago, staring out of the window as we chugged slowly down the high street in the haze of a humid early summer afternoon, when I realised I was surrounded by elves. They were all dressed in black, and spoke an elvish language, and one of them was listening to elvish music. These were not Tolkeinesque elves; they were much earthier, more like a common or garden variety of elf. Perhaps they were pixies. One of them was blowing pink bubbles from its mouth.
Then I realised they were schoolchildren.
I cycle to work now.

What is it?

Eck, eck, eck.

Grrrrrrrrrr.