I'm aboard a British Airways flight to Madrid, because that's how I roll, and I have an organic shortbread biscuit in front of me, which apparently is "sublimely buttery to please even the most particular palate". Well it ain't gonna be going anywhere near my palate, I can assure you! My body being a temple, and all that. Instead I'm tucking into a chicken couscous meal and wishing it was cheese.
I flew out of London City Airport, an aptly named airport what with it being in the city and all. It's full of business types trying to look business-like. Black 3/4-length coat, black laptop bag and a hands-free kit. Preferably talking about something important on the phone. "Buy! Buy! Sell! Sell!" Or something. You'd never see them in the dark, but if you're not travelling too fast you might hear them sound important early enough not to run into them. My location before heading to the airport was 1 Canada Square, Canary Wharf, also full of above-mentioned business types. What I love about London, and trust me, there are very few things I love about London, is that the business-types (and any other type for that matter) come in all colours and sizes, yet they all manage to look the same. I'm quietly proud that I stand out from the crowd with my navy blue jacket, grey laptop rucksack and general ridiculousness. Although how anyone would know what ridiculousness is in my head at any one time is ridiculous in itself. Perhaps the guy sitting next to me now is reading my blog. If so - mind your own business and get back to sleeping with your mouth open. I'm totally gonna yawn rape you in your sleep.
I'm enjoying being out and about a bit, it's been a while, and my friend Katherine told me that she'd like another blog post. I can't let the fans down now, can I? I will make sure I write about profound things, like how shit the hotel is, or how I got lost during a run and ended up in a bullring. (I really hope that doesn't happen.) The weather in Madrid is set to be pretty cold though, and I didn't bring any gloves so I'm gonna have to suck it up if I want to go running. And I do want to go running, it would be a missed opportunity otherwise.
The dude next to me is reading Harry Potter. Ridiculous.
Right, signing off now in order to carry on with my rock n roll lifestyle of playing solitaire. Laters.
A few failed attempts at finishing a game of solitaire and I've had to endure the guy next to me pulling greenies (do people still call it that?) and someone has guffed and it stinks. I want off this plane.
Right, I'm off the plane and in my hotel room, as if by magic. It's the Holiday Inn, but it's a bit posh for a Holiday Inn! Check this out:
You know the phrase, the minds eye, when you picture something or someone in your mind, there is also a minds ear, when ever i see the word ridiculous in your blog, i actually hear you say it in my mind. It has been a reoccurring theme from your first post to last, or latest to date . Now its not something i especially associate with you ,personality wise you understand, its rather something i know your kind of hyper aware of, when you sit and think, it seems you can pick it out, at 100 metres with nimble mental dexterity, i think it an admirable trait. I'm kind of liking the ridiculousness of it all, especially when prefixed with an occasional expletive.
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