Victor Hugo, you did actually write quite a lot of bollocks

So this morning for reason I was awake at 4AM then continued to wake every hour until 9AM wanting a very large pee. This either means I have diabetes, prostate problems or just draining the remains of 300 litres of Japanese lager from the previous week.

So had breakfast at 10AM. This was followed by some sort of sexual activity, nothing adventurous, more of a pipe cleaning exercise. Still, it was now a good excuse to change the sheets, spunk and dog hair is almost like concrete when it solidifies.

Had a email back from the hotel saying, ‘We’ve found these two pairs of shoes…..’, I sent one back saying that they can recycle them. One pair had a broken heal, the other Jamie just didn’t like, apparently they didn’t go with his blazer.

I started on the first round of washing then did the unpacking. As usual half the clothes I took I didn’t wear. Mind you I did get through more T-shirts than normal. I did make some sort of effort. Put the suitcases back in the loft and sorted everything away. First load finished (washing not my balls) so hung that out to dry. Then set off to Tesco’s. Jamie came as well, so it was like shopping with a five year old child, things kept appearing in the basket and he kept buggering off every two minutes. Still there were good offers on loo rolls and kitchen towels. Came back and had toast, hung out next round of washing.

Then we went to pick the dog up. She was in a run and seemed quite settled until she saw us. Then I don’t thing I’ve ever heard her whine so loud of jump so high. I’m sure at one point her ass actually hit the top of her kennel. There was a bit of a queue so we just had to listen to her whining. Anyway she was very pleased to see us. She got on fine and played nicely with all the other doggies, she seems in good shape and if anything lost a bit of weight, so she’s been running around a plenty. We’ll use them again as I think she had fun and it appears to be a pretty popular place.

Came back, Jamie buggered off with one of his anaemic bean poll blue friends together with a load of Sonic stuff. I hope he has tissues and lube.

I stuck my Japanese J-Pop ‘Sexy Thing’ poster on the side of the wardrobe. I was thinking about sticking it above the bed so if I need inspiration while banging away I have a choice between Tom Daley and fourteen nubile Japanese boys.

I then decided as the weather was nice to hoover out the car. So I tied the dog to her long leash and let her outside. I then spent the next three hours hoovering every last hair out of the car. I made a good job of it. Okay, so I have an industrial vacuum cleaner for the car, that makes it somewhat easier. Hung another lot of washing up.

Jamie has just come back, obviously all sexually exhausted. He can empty the dishwasher, that should calm his ardour.

So after watching Les Miserable again it made me think a little bit about the book it’s based on. It was written by Victor Hugo in 1860 something. I read it a few years ago, to be honest it’s bollocks. Okay it’s French so that doesn’t help, I would have attempted to read it in the original Klingon (look it up) but went for the English language version. It’s big, very big, I seem to remember a couple of thousand pages. It’s also oddly laid out, hundreds of chapters each about three pages long. About half the book is complete drivel, it’s Hugo banging on about his political theories, Sewers (I kid you not), and also about a visit to Waterloo (the battle field, not the tube station). Now the musical is interesting as it’s based on the book, to be honest it’s probably based on about ten pages of the book. Dear old Jean Viljean doesn’t appear in a great deal of it. The oddest thing for me though is he keeps bumping into Javert and keeps saying ‘give me three days’, blah blah. Then he goes from being a prisoner to a factory owner and mayor to then becoming part of the revolution, although that started happening about twenty years before. Anyway, the film is fine, except for Russell Crowe who’s a cock and I like the songs.

It’s reminds me somewhat of another complete pile of cack which is Ulysses. This I read when I was going through ‘I must read some great classic literature’, phase many years ago. I did tried some Dicken’s but decided it was very depressing. Anyway, back to James Joyce, this was written in 1920 something. It’s considered a very important work of literature. Now let me condense it down, bloke walks around Ireland. Job done. It is almost impossible to read and follow, there is one chapter that is just one sentence, it’s meant to be stream of conciousness, to me it’s a stream that will make you unconscious with boredom. There are a couple of chapters that concentrate on people giving themselves ‘self gratification’ in very graphic detail, if you’ve managed to get this far you probably need a good wank anyway.

My English teacher once said to me, ‘Don’t read Stephen King as he doesn’t write proper books’, I think my response was ‘I don’t read Stephen King because he is shit’. If you want to read a good book forget early nineteenth century bollocks, go read Harper Lee’s ‘To kill a mocking bird’ or Steinbeck’s ‘Of mice and men’. These are classic books written by people who aren’t up their own arse.

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