First up: apologies. there ain't gonna be no RATS today, 'cause my Notebook's screen has shut down. Fortunately, it's well within the warrenty period, so I hope to be up and running again soon. I really should have backed-up everything, yes. But I didn't. So ain't that a kick in the pants?
Second up: Cor. I was going about my business today, selecting a doctor/nurse Mills & Boon for Mrs Carruthers, and a "Bombers of the second World War" for Mr Jablowski, when I saw a.. well, I saw a stunningly gorgeous woman. She was mid-30s, I guess, medium height, African, perfectly built.. a good size 12, I'd estimate.. and she emanated a spirit of carefree happiness. Now, a looked at her, and glanced away. Hell, I'm 57, and there's nothing more ridiculous than a middle-aged man panting after a gorgeous woman. But then I stopped, and asked myself - what is it that makes it nasty, dirty, sleazy, and greasy for a guy my age (any age?) to look at a beautiful woman? I wasn't (scout's honour) looking at her thinking "Geez, I'd like to have your ankles around my neck".
TOA: Yeah, right. You sure?
I'm pretty damn' sure, yes. I would have gazed with the same sense of astonishment at Michelagelo's "David", and I have looked with equal stunnededness at a painting. I simply felt astonishingly happy to be walking on the same planet as someone that lovely. So, if I stared, I'm glad. If my staring gave offence, I'm sorry.
Listening to: The Specials. Wot fun!
Reading: "Waltenburg", by Hedi Kaddour. French novel, luckily translated. Very good so far. Can't get Katzenbach out of my head, though.
Word of the day: perv. I'm not. I hope.