supermonkey goldmine

There was a woman on the local news the other day going round schools warning pupils of ‘the dangers of teenage suicide’. Yes I imagine that could be quite dangerous. Hopefully she will be teaching them some of the safer ways of killing themselves.

I’ve returned to work after a week or so off, in which my major achievement was watching The Powerpuff Girls Movie. All the way through. It’s shrill as a roomful of overexcited kids, but redeemed by evil monkeys with superpowers: makers of the next Jennifer Lopez vehicle please take note.

The return to work brings with it an immense weariness. There must be other things I could devote my life to. Correcting Mike Skinner’s grammar? Or I could become a star without even trying: Chad is threatening to plagiarise our lives in a series of animations based on our wacky household, to which he is a frequent visitor. Chad's full of ideas. He suggested to Hannah in the pub the other night that she could give up work, have a baby a year, and sell them on e-bay. Naturally, she was filled with moral revulsion: ‘I’d never get my figure back!’