Friday, April 20, 2007

Only when she looks down?

Some days are worse than others. And some days are worse than those days. Then some days take a giant dump on all the aforementioned days and reach heights that can’t be topped.

Today is not quite one of those days but somehow I have gone from being super chipper this morning to being one step away from going up the road for another bag of Nando’s chips and using my diet coke can to bash myself to death.

On top of naffed-up photos, The fucking Voice, an irate deputy lord Mayor and a headache you might think that another visit from The Man Who Calls Up and Cries might be the final straw.

You’d be surprised.

Regular readers may remember him from a few weeks ago, when he memorably wept over the future of OBE while playing incredibly loud in the background in a slightly mental fashion.

Today we reunited when he talked me to talk about a particular ABC newsreader. A rather attractive newsreader, he was at pains to reassure me, not “the one that looks like a Klingon when she looks down”.

This newsreader had, he said, been wearing a lot of turquoise-coloured clothes lately. Not that this was a bad thing - he liked turquoise, his daughter (he’s breeding?) likes turquoise… everyone’s happy. But lately said newsreader has started to vary her wardrobe a little, including wearing rings on her right hand… her right hand you see, not her left, so that her loyal viewers don’t know if she’s married or not.

The little minx.

Part of being a journalist in my particular organisation is dealing with wackos and there are absolutely no shortage of them. But this guy… well I kind of like him. Despite (or perhaps because of) being completely mental he’s actually pretty funny. He knows that he’s nuts which is more than a lot of people can say and that he’s often only a drink away from fall-down drunk which, again, is at least some kind of self awareness.

More than that he knows he’s being a pain in the arse and apologises constantly for wasting my time or talking shite. Somehow this makes me feel like I’m doing a community service by talking to him because he seems to appreciate the human contact. At least he keeps coming back for more.

It also makes me realise that however crappy my Friday is going things could be a looot worse for me. This guy could know where I live, for a start.

And yep the crazy vaguely operatic music is indeed still playing in the background.

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