Rear window

I'm still under house arrest, waiting for more things to be delivered, but the place is starting to take shape nicely. We may have gone a tad overboard with the mini fridge and cinema projector in the bedroom, but hey, that's the third world for you.

Also, now that we have a kettle as of this afternoon, I reckon it's high time to introduce Hugo to the joy of a cup of tea. Maybe with a biscuit? Perhaps I should have done this when we lived in Manchester, and not waited until we moved to a land where Lord Fireface constantly spits his sunny rage all over our expectant faces. Nah, it'll be grand.

I thought someone got shot outside our apartment last night. It turned out not to be so dramatic. There was lots of shouting of men and screaming of women and a loud bang, followed by more shouting and screaming, so I had to get up and have a ganders from the window, proper Limavady style. 5.30am too, for fuck's sake. So anyways I see a bunch of people across the street surrounding one guy who's lying on his his back on the pavement, quite still. People are shouting and running around aimlessly and the cops have shown up, but the cops are just milling about slowly, seemingly with little interest, which makes me think it mightn't that serious after all. The guy's still lying there though and hasn't moved in ages. I go back to bed and gently wake Hugo up to tell him someone's been shot outside and he laughs and goes back to sleep. Back at the window, the guy's moving!! Hurrah!! And some of the angry shouty men are having to be held back by less angry shouty men, which makes me think it was just a drunken brawl that went a bit far. The guy's on his feet now, being supported by a few of the not so shouty men, so I go back to bed and step on something crunchy on the way. I don't want to know what it was.

Zzz

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