The Lake House

Dear Keanu

I'm so lucky! Who'd have thought it? Living in the same house as you, but two years in the future. You can send me magic messages and everything. Coo.
PS: Those stains in the hall are really stubborn.

Love,
James

====

Dear Keanu

Thanks for your last note from two years ago, and for finding time to redecorate the downstairs bathroom (how lucky I am! suddenly, it's always been fuschia!). In answer to your question, yes, you're still famous in 2006. Well, a bit famous. I mean, they're aren't pictures of you in Heat often, but at least they've stopped printing those nasty bulimia rumours.

PS: Just lifted that loose floorboard. Your old porn! How thoughtful.

====

Dear Keanu

I've checked. Later on in 2004, your hair gets really long and greasy. Then there's a mullet in spring, then something flicky with highlights, then a buzzcut. Ooh, and it looks like you've started covering up the grey. With tar. The buzzcut was nicest - why not just go for that?

PS: Lifted another floorboard. Another stash of Keanu porn. Bless.

====

Dear Keanu

Nope. I checked. People don't think more of you for taking interesting roles in indy movies. And you don't get the lead in Capote. The bad news is, you do get the lead in Constantine.

PS: Another floorboard. More porn. Your gifts aren't diverse, but they are prolific.

====

Dear Keanu

Waited in the restaurant for three hours. You didn't show up. Just as they were closing, a lawyer with an NDA turned up. You cad.

PS: When I got home, I lifted every floorboard. Porn rammed under every one. They're not gifts - you're just filthy.

PPS: No, do do the Lake House with Sandra Bullock. She's forgiven you. Really.

Wuthering heights

So drunk when I got home last night. Ended up sleeping on the balcony in the rain.

Obligatory terror post

Really didn't want to be in London for the anniversary. Observed the two minute silence sat at my desk, listening to someone laughing through a personal phone call.

Radio 4 was brilliant all day. CBBC even joined in with a special drama about kids and the bombing. It tried to tackle really complex issues. Some of them very successfully. And then there was the scene where no one could get on the school bus because the bus driver objected to three ten year olds wearing veils.

"Keep your jihad off my bus! People have died today!" yelled the bus driver. Um.

There's something rather wearing...

About press releases containing the word "awesome".

Knees

On a detour from the bike ride home last night, I met a Swedish man who looked like Action Man. Only the blue pants came off.

When I got home, I had to pick the bracken out of my knees. There's scarring, but it was worth it.

Restaurant at the end of the Relationship

There was something odd about the couple next to us. As we waited for our table, She returned to the table, pint for him, bottle of wine for her.

HE: How much is this costing? Drag me away from the football all the way to nowhere and for what?

SHE: I'm trying to save this relationship. What do you say to that?

HE: mumble. mumble.

SHE: Oh yeah, once we're done, you can go back to that slut.

We started reading the menu aloud. Then we tried naming the Bond films in order. Anything to drown out the sound of heartbreak from the next table. Whenever we ran out of conversation, they'd be there.

SHE: Fine. You carry on banging her, if that's what you want to do. I don't deserve this treatment.

HE: This cod is burnt. Can you see? All along the side.

They weren't much to look at. She was wearing Nervous RE teacher. He was just a toad with a combover. I tried to imagine him having sex with anyone. It just didn't seem likely.

SHE: (screaming) What is it? Do you want me to wear stockings and suspenders?

Oddly, she didn't come across as that sympathetic. He was obviously a louse who didn't deserve her pity, but her approach was unnerving - furious grovelling.

SHE: (icy) I take then that I'm to leave Mr Potter alone.

HE: Are you paying for this?

SHE: Here's the money. I'm going to the toilet. You've done everything you can to ruin this evening.

She left for the toilet and never came back. He sat in silence for an hour, and then melted away.

I prayed they weren't sharing a B&B.

You wouldn't steal a car...

Smart parody of that god-awful anti-piracy film

While David Cameron didn't...

People are still rumbling over David Cameron's emission admission - that he never pleasured himself to pictures of Lady Thatcher.

Strangely, this reminds me of an awful night at university, when, *very new* to all things gay, I met a member of Christ Church College Young Conservatives. He brought me a drink. Several drinks. "What an ugly man," I thought, "and why does my pint taste strange?"

Later, I woke up to discover I was losing my anal virginity underneath a picture of Maggie Thatcher.

Irony

My iron blew up today.

I've never been good with the things. Well, that's not true. I'm great at making pleats with them. But can I make a shirt look fresh as the day I brought it? No.

I tried starching once. And made a wrinkle map of the Himalayas. It was great.

An ex once offered to buy me an iron for my birthday, and was amazed when I told him I owned one.

My flatmate actually asked me to stop borrowing hers as "it was all funny afterwards".

Law And The Lady

(boring post to prove I read books)

Wilkie Collins writes the best Victorian stuff. Law And The Lady was amazing - plucky female detective, poison make-up, gothic houses, and a crippled genius in a hydraulic wheelchair.

Yay. After all that, time for an X-Men graphic novel.