pottsie

sitting here with a voice over artist in the booth, connected over some rather nifty teechnology to our other studio in adelaide, and he's of that certain age where he chooses to have long conversations about the weather. everytime he comes in we talk for half and hour about the heat, the cold, the ol' southerly buster, whether autumn is coming.....

but the question is, will we be like that when we get old? needing to fill time with meaningless smalltalk and rambling? or will our generations small talk remain drenched in irony and adversarial word play as opposed to polite inanity....

in a side note, it occurred to me that never is a need so easily and completly fullfilled, never are our desires so fully met, never do we feel so completly sated..... as when we wake up in the morning, busting for a pee, run down the long hallway to the bathroom, wait for the flatmate to finish shaving, explode into the bathroom and well...... peeee.