2004-03-23..1:55 p.m.

The Life and Times of a Zombie Goat Girl.

There was once a Goat Girl living in an old part of London. She only came out at night because she was a Goat Girl and the curly horns poking out from her forehead scared people. They through things at her like empty Coke cans and mattress stuffing, but she didn�t care, she just ate them. One night she met with the Undead in a Camden back alley. She tried to eat its brain. That�s when she discovered she had a taste for brain and that she was Undead to. Now she only comes out at night because the daylight makes her face melt. She still has horns. The End.

Bet you thought that was going to be about me and how much my job is sucking me drain like a greedy vampy vampire. Well it wasn�t. But it easily could be. My job is sucking me dry like a greedy vampire and I feel certain I will cave in, becoming dull and lank like unwashed hair. It�s nothing in particular, but all this week (and it�s only Tuesday, normally my favourite day of the week, for it�s not Monday and the week still has hope and vigour) I have had to fight off deep dark urges to take the blunt end of a stapler and go smish-smashing all over.

The only thing keeping me going is the thought that I have but six months to go before I can sink back into scholasticism. That and the various reviews people keep letting me write. Thank you world wide web for these small blessings. Without you, I would be forced to stand on street corners and jab scraps of paper in the shape of ill-begotten zine under the noses of pedestrians who would pretend to read for a couple of steps then through the rest on the ground, because no one here knows how to use litter bins.

My lunch is nigh over. I'm seriously hoping this afternoon RAWKs after the Mondo Fiasco of this morning on my sanity and cheer. Tuesday so far owe's me big time.

flappable and flagging

****meep