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Thursday, November 11

My sense of humour is definitely darkening. I walked past an ex-work-colleague in town recently and I avoided having any conversation with this person because I knew I was about to say something desperately inappropriate. It made more sense to avoid engaging the lady in question in conversation than to make an effort to speak to someone I neither know nor respect, especially when all I could think of to say was "So, are you still cheating on your husband without his knowledge then? Or have you told him?". To me, that would have been very funny. I am a sick and twisted individual.

Actually, I'm not sick and twisted. I just have a little thing about fidelity. It's only a little thing, and relationships are never simple enough for me to sit in judgement or anything. Indeed, I'm sure it's always different when you're on the inside, but fidelity, in general, is important to me. I always found it rather comical that the male-half of this cheating had managed to get embroiled in relationships (brief or otherwise) with not one but two female work colleagues who were themselves in long-term relationships. Mind you, he wasn't totally lacking in understanding of their predicament. He was in a long-term relationship of his own. He's not now. Indeed, I'm sure he'll be very happy with the aforementioned married lady, once she admits to her husband that he's subsidising her infidelity, and does the honourable thing. Yes, I've gone from laughing at people's misfortune to making my own rash judgements... I'm really nothing to do with this. This is why I didn't say a word to the woman, and nobody got hurt. By me, at least.

What is love anyway?

On a lighter note, I have been having a challenging and fun week in the office. With plenty to occupy my time, including lunch-breaks spent listening to a mid-90's radio series from a dodgy DVD I bought on ebay, the week has flown by. Last night I went to a comedy night and had fun, especially since the closing act is a mate from the world of comedy, whom I'd not seen perform in quite some time - he's come along so much that it's only the fact that I'm happy for him that stops me being somewhat jealous. Having said that, you can't really be jealous of someone because they've improved. There's nothing better than seeing someone develop. I'm proud of the lad. Even if he is losing more hair than I am... ha ha ha these early 20's lads with their pattern baldness. At least I kept my hair into my mid 20's!

I was blessed with scintillating company on my trip to and from the gig, in the form of a fellow comedian. This person gave me ideas. Oh yes. By simply making the decision to act in a certain way and following that decision through, your life can temporarily take a turn for the absurd, without you needing to abandon your sense of logic, or your sanity. I won't spoil the stories that are to come by giving the specific example I was given of what I've turned into a somewhat pompous generic description
. Instead, I'll describe how this has already affected my life.

On the weekend, a friend of mine admitted that she was obsessed with chicken. I don't think she was really obsessed with it. She likes eating chicken, and chooses to do so whenever she can. This may pass, or may be an example of her body "self-medicating". I'm sure she's totally sane. However, I have become somewhat fascinated at the idea that someone might be obsessed by chicken. Indeed, you might say I've been obsessed with it. I decided to kill two birds with one stone tonight and decided to have an eating theme night. The theme? - why it was Chicken, of course. At first glance, this sounds perfectly logical. I decided to eat a meal consisting of chicken in various forms. I went around the supermarket sourcing ingredients for the meal. I then went home and ate the meal. It doesn't seem especially interesting or even "wacky". However, here's is what I ate this evening:


Starter - Chicken and vegetable soup
Appetiser - Chicken drumsticks, thighs and wings
Main course - Chicken breast baguette
Dessert - Egg Custard Tart

And to follow, a bucket.


I don't even like Egg Custard tarts, but I got swept away by the totally arbitrary mandate of eating chicken or chicken-based products. They didn't even have a little one. I ate much of a large Egg Custard Tart that I didn't want. This was simply because I'd decided to act in a certain way - namely eat a lot of chicken-related products.

I realise that this is odd behaviour, and I'm neither worried, proud nor apologetic. This is what I spent my evening doing and I am admitting it here for all to see. I must add that this is a poor manifestation of what was described to me yesterday - I am just building up to the more unusual behaviour.

Until then, do Cadbury's Creme Eggs count? I bet you can't buy them at this time of year anyway!

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