Just returned from a 2 day trip to Alton Towers [just being relative. It was over a month ago] to find in my lovely mailbox [the window ledge on the building staircase] two letters: One was expected [bad news] and one from Leo [a pleasant surprise].
I find my Belle G. case has been thrown out due to non-attendance. Contrary to Badri’s expert legal advice I probably ought to have attended the hearing [which he also suggested] but I now owe court costs of 40 quid to that evil thieving bitch. Its both humiliating, infuriating and aggravating and other such adjectives that I have lost a wasted a lot of time, effort and cash to boot. I suppose court costs could have been worse. *sigh*
Gloom seems to be the current theme in the Valley of Illustrators. Foz’s great hopes that we would all find employment commercial success and future happiness have been swiftly overturned in the great vacuum that is the job market for idiot illustrators with poor computer skills, minimal experience and no left brain whatsoever. [No I tell a lie. Foz & Gary had no such illusions regarding us]
We had a brief reunion picnic in the park near college a few weeks ago, it was a rare sunny day and our booze and munchies grew in area as we sat there from 4pm to 8pm. We debated Urh’s swiftly approaching parenthood and how his girlfriend could now order any policeman to remove his helmet so that she may deign to piss in it [pregnant women are above and beyond all common normal decency]
And Now Back to Alton Towers:
Alton Towers is the land of endless queues. They say the British love to que and they certainly do it best at Alton towers.
If you think however that I’m complaining [and I am] it doesn’t mean the weekend wasn’t a complete blast.
However the ex and began in great style with a full blown fight from the night before [which was my fault I must admit] but that continued with both of us sulking halfway till Bedford on the M1 in our rented convertible.
Then we made up.
then we got to Alton Towers [super late at around 3, hungry and cranky].
Then we had another fight and sulked some more.
Then we made up.
Then we went to our hotel had a bunch of Margaritas and Pina Coladas in a Mexican place and meandered our way back to the room.
Having learnt our lesson from the day before, the next day we arrived a lot earlier and attacked Alton Towers like it was a military conquest. We studied our map until we knew it like the back of our hand. We only targeted the ‘thriller’ rides and tried to use the single queues where possible [which are faster but you end up sitting next to any random person].
By 5:30 when the place began winding down we must have stood in a countless queues.
We then had to que in the gift shop.
Then there was the que to get onto the monorail to just to get to the car park.
Then we queued in the car park for over 2 hours behind an endless row of cars.
The ex tried explaining all the motor-way politics and maneuvering behind over-taking: which bastard was pushing his luck and why. How the ex and fucked them over and why [on the motorway]. All the machismo mumbo-jumbo really makes no sense. Whats the big deal about over-taking? What difference does it make anyway? Its not the Grand Prix.
I think we only sulked once on Sunday on the way back. Comparatively a lot less than usual.
[queued is the most bizarre word in the English launguage]