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I am very calm at the moment, I have settle down to a ham and pickle sandwich, thrown a few darts at my Glen Hoddle dart board and have found a new song to attempt to cheer me up. It's called Xanadu, by Olivia Newton John. In my opinion, she should have stuck to just Grease- because I can't get this fucking song out of my head, nor wondering where this bloody Xanadu is; so I can go there and murder this roller skating community of fuckwits.

Yesterday, I got an ice cream from the only person who I won't scream at for parking in the entrance of my drive- my ice cream man. I had an old friend phone me when I got in. He regaled his last few years, which to most seemed impressive- although to me he just sounded like a big of a twat. In a moment of madness, I shoved my ice cream in my left eye, making me look like a character from a Stanley Kubrick movie, which I dubbed 'A clockwork Cornetto: A history of Ice Cream'. Also thinking I hadn't accomplished anything, I wrote myself two notes on my nearby typewriter. One of them reads;

'ATTENTIONZ PLOX:
I R A SOMALIAN PIRATE
EH EH GIVE ME YOUR SHOES
HERE IS MY PIRATEY SWORD

(===||===========>

YARRRRHOHO AND A BOTTLE OF PERRIER'

He didn't seem to impressed when I soon remember he was born in Mogadishu. We had a good laugh about it after when I made the excuse up I had undergone a labotomy three years previous. The funny thing is, is that I honestly didn't know I had written what I had; I don't know if you ever have these situations.

I also went out for a meal about a week ago, to Nandos. Firstly I hate restaurants where they have waiters and waitresses; BUT YOU CAN'T ORDER FOOD FROM THEM?!?! It's almost as if they are mockign you, it's like, "We'll show you to your table, tell you about the sauces and bring you your food; but you've got to go order it"- followed of course by the sarcastic retail giggle when the staff have hindered the customer.

I sat for half an hour on my first time in that restaurant. I mistook the metal cutlery, the charming ambience and staff with the ability to take your plates away, for a place that might actually be waiter service. Their restaurant policy has more holes in it than the victims of the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929. On the Dessert menu, it claims that 'You deserve Dessert'. How the Branston Pickle do you know that?! I could be Harold Bloody Shipman buying a tiramasu for my next victim. By the way, I'm not going to speculate than Mr Shipman like Nando's, I think he prefers Wednesday at Homebase for the OAP discount. It's like a double meaning for shopping really?

Anyway, I'm going to go learn to rollerskate so I can fit in when I form my plan to covertly annihilate Xanadu.

Baron Chris
www.theantagonistonline.com
(as of tomorrow!)