I always get this bad event sense. It tingles whilst I’m on a plane, train or automobile. It tells me something bad is going to happen. And sometimes it doesn’t. But when it does, well, my bad event sense was right, right? Two times out of ten, what a power I have.
I think life can often be like being inside a shopping mall. Or centre, but when you write mall just flows that much better. It’s a space that contains everything you need, but most of it ends up closed.
I don’t remember what used to be there. And the replacements are never guaranteed.
When all the characters jump into their spaceships and start blasting away at each other, it’s time to switch off.
Death Star trench run aside, I think it’s safe to say that there is nothing more boring than an epic space battle. Give it five to ten minutes and the shooting will finally stop, the crafts will land, and it’s time to wake up.
What did I miss? Just a few holes breached and a bit part character bit the dust. Until the next one.
Two tables slapped together isn’t always a great idea, especially when it comes to drink placement. I I watched my glass of wine come crashing down as I placed it on the uneven surface, unaware that the second table was lower. I watched, and the waiter watched. And I lost a lot on that uneven surface that day.
I went to a police museum and there was an opportunity to wear a police uniform and pretend for a minute you are the law, like Judge Dredd but in hi-vis. When I donned the outfit and tried to fit the tiny hat on my huge head, a certain desire for violence passed over me like a cloud. When I removed the hat it left me, and I wondered what that was all about. Maybe the police outfit brought the worst out of me, or maybe I needed to find a bigger hat.