argonautgod

There are times in life when you can answer 'nowhere' to the question 'Where else would you want to be than right here right now.' Last night and this afternoon were one of those times.

What was I doing? Writing.

What made it so special? It was a kick-ass section in me book.

What made it better? I was blasting the 'Ripley to the Rescue' track over and over from the Aliens soundtrack.

What made it ultimate? Because I was in the zone. I was in the head of every character. Their words, their actions, their emotions flowed through me to my fingers and into the Word doc. Everything about the story hooked up and I was at home in the in a mindset which I didn't want to leave.

But did. Obviously.

But while I was there, nothing else mattered.

In other nonsense two horses trotted past the house earlier. Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop they went. Then they stopped and one rider said 'Oh no.' The other said, 'Doesn't matter, keep going.' Didn't bother to check at the time - I was having fun.

Then I did check.

The horses had only crapped at the bottom of the bloody drive. Fucking indolence on the part of the riders. If that was a dog, the owner didn't pick it up and the filth caught em it's 50 quid done and dusted. If it's a horse, nothing bloody happens. Once again it's one law for the dogs and another for the vulgar horse - whose heading to the knackers yard as I make a deal to flog its corpse to the Pedigree Chum lot.

Dogs eat horses. The Chinese eat dogs. The Chinese Year of the Horse was the year I was born in. Wow.

Karma. Almost.

Scribe!