fatman Find the clues!

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

New Housemates= Excessive Cleaning

Although by this time last month I thought there was an outside chance that I may be residing in a cardboard box somewhere next to a garbage can inhabited by a green, furry Muppet I find myself still happily living at Melrose street, North Melbourne. I wish to thank some of you out there-you know who you are as this site is only visited by my parole officer, people I owe money to and spambots- who not only promised to not beat me up for lunch money for awhile but offered to lend me MORE money. There are also those who actually offered a rent-free couch space for a few months ( Cheers to The Peacock for that one). Though the search for the missing rent continues ( nights of pouring over various bank statements to the brink of an aneurysm) the problem is a little less urgent than before.

Megs has moved in. She took one look at the place and started vacuuming almost immediately. I found her scrubbing the shower the first morning she stayed over...like all good women should. When I commented thus she fired back with; ' Now I'm going to start re-arranging the furniture.' She would later recount that my face was a mask of sheer horror, like " The opening of Pandora's Box. All the evils of the world brimming under the surface of my flesh, waiting to erupt". ' You may clean things if you must,' I replied huffily when I could control my seething rage, ' but leave things where they lie.'

The other thing about cleaning up a house is the junk you find. Megs found a copy of Dan Brown's DaVinci Code that I had hurled at the wall some time ago ( lying next to a copy of the equally overrated Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections) and was gathering dust under the couch. The only thing worth mentioning about this piece-of-shit book is that it is part of the Book Crossing program where you leave the book in a public place somewhere and hopefully some dumbass, like Yours Truly, will pick it up and waste five hours reading it instead of...I don't know, learning something useful (eg. Hovercraft Maintenance) or renting pornos. I shall leave the Dan Brown here I think, at e55, where I come to type my musings because they have beer here and a cute bar chick. Perhaps one of these poor bastards will pick up the drivel that is The DaVinci Code and get more enjoyment than I did.

Iceberg Fat,
Fatman

3 Comments:

Blogger Fatman said...

Incidentally, if you do go to www.bookcrossing.com you will find my comments (as Anonymous Reader#3) if you type in the BCID which is 396-1716340.

6:54 pm  
Blogger Fatman said...

For some reason the link doesn't seem to be working for Book Crossing. Here da "review":

Heh, I actually found this book sitting stop a bin last year. During a clean up of the house I found this sitting under the couch amid packets of Pizza shapes, newspapers dating back to '94, a family of rats and a mouldy sock. Written by Dan Brown, a talentless hack who has written a bland book where the formula of find something new, get chased, pause, explain something/ be explained to, run, repeat has managed to sell more copies of the book than there are African babies purely because of his subject matters ( Leonardo Da Vinci, The Holy Grail, The Priory of Sion, Opus Dei) being so compelling on their own. Despite being so badly written I do not know anyone who has not read the book cover-to-cover once they have finally bothered to pick it up. There's a film in the works right now with Tom Hanks playing the role of Robert Langdon which will guarantee that even tribesmen on Islands who are still baffled by commercial airplanes ( referred to as: Big Sky Monsters in their native tongue) and whose chief currency is salted fish heads will contribute somehow to Mr.Brown's bloated coffers in Switzerland. Which is kind of a pity. Still, reading anything is better than reading nothing. For those who like books that avoid big words and have characters who are enrolled as boy wizards in Hogwarts this may be a 'next-step-up' to reading real literature whatever THAT is. I shall rid myself of this book next week I think. Maybe I'll leave it on a tram. Maybe I'll venture to an airport so someone can pick this up en route to another country. And maybe the book shall find it's way on an Island where the natives still refer to commercial airplanes as Big Sky Monsters.

Fatman


CAUGHT IN MELBOURNE VICTORIA AUSTRALIA

6:28 pm  
Blogger Ash Karreau said...

You forgot to mention the part where the protagonist takes 400 pages to actually tell his companion what they're looking for, for no other purpose than being overly dramatic.

7:06 am  

Post a Comment

<< Home