My mobile was ringing. I have the day off, so everyone knows better than to call me at this hour. Calling someone at 8:30 on your day off is a sin. It was Stuart.
“Why? Sleeping. Lay-In. Sleeping. Why????” When half awake I revert to caveman language.
“They found a bomb near Haymarket.”
This woke me up.
“A car bomb. Piccadilly is closed. Just keep your eyes open today.”
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Not that I think that anyone would be silly enough to steal my ramblings, but in case you may be thinking about it. . . the very act of my writing this means that I own the copyright. Really. Look it up.
So, please don't plagiarize. It just ain't cool. And what I say just isn't that interesting. Trust me. Most of my friends don't even read this.
That being said, I do subscribe to the T.S. Eliot philosophy of "Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." There is a difference between Stealing and stealing. . . This is not to say that I am mature. If anything. . . I'm rambling aren't I? That's what I do. I ramble. So, yeah. I'll shut up now.
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June 29th, 2007 at 3:24 pm
Holy Shit!!!! Keep your antenia up -Both of YOU!
Love Ma