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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

We’ve started doing that thing again, me and He Who Only…, when we’re taking quiet moments, those moments of reflection that we take from time to time, turning off the television and the computer and the radio and just sitting in the peace to take stock of our lives, those moments where all you can hear are:

On the left, the coughing of the child next door that continues throughout the night
On the right, the fighting of the neighbours
Above us, the thumping of the lesbians upstairs as they bound about their house apparently picking up heavy furniture and throwing it back down again
Out the window, the heavy roar of traffic, occasionally splintered by the scream of sirens

In those moments, we’ve taken to turning to each other and, as one, yelling that we really need to get out of London.

Last night, we narrowed down our choices to either Brighton or York.

The thinking went along these lines:

“Let’s move to Brighton!”
“Yeah!… Or York!”

What we want in Brighton or York is a house which is on a quiet residential street, with no through traffic. We would like access to a garden so that we can have a small dog called Clive. We would like there to be some open spaces somewhere near us where we can teach Clive to run after things that we throw and then refuse to bring them back. If we are in Brighton (this is less important in York) we would like to be able to see the sea from our front room (even if that means having to lean out of the window so far the other one has to hold on to their ankles in order to achieve this view).

This move will be happening either

(a) when He Who Only…’s current radio show is finished recording (March)
(b) After my summer school (July)
(c) when I finish my studies this year (October/November)
(d) In 2008 (2008)

We’re very good at making plans, me and He Who Only… And the fact that we’ve already named the dog shows that we’re good at some decisions.


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