Creative Writing

Before you ask - my services were "no longer required" at the Charity Shop.  Tsk - I'm really not sure why I'm expected to work for no pay, no benefits and have to put up with the hoi polloi anyway.

So, what to do?  Well, before I go a temping in the autumn, I think that I'm going to undertake some adult education.  A few weeks ago, whilst browsing in the library I noticed that they were running some creative writing sessions and as I'm a semi-regular blogger, I thought I'd give it a whirl.

The first session was this afternoon.  Our tutor's called Marjorie and she's a seasoned Mills and Boon author.  She lives, along with her terrapin, Timothy, in a large Victorian villa in the vicinity of the High Street.  She's a small, darting woman with tiny blue eyes, white hair and a slash of crimson where her mouth used to be.  That said, don't let her appearance fool you - she's as sharp as a tack and saucy as a sailor.  For example, she was talking about how she writes her 'love scenes' when a nearby vagrant looked up from his battered copy of The People's Friend and began to protest.

"Good Sir," she said "literary endeavours should never be quenched!  Take your Sports Direct bag elsewhere and find happiness in the mire!"

"You're talking total bollocks lady." he retorted and exited, not followed by a bear.

Cinemaworld Pass

Have I ever written about how much I'm enjoying my Cinemaworld unlimited pass?  No?  Well, take it from me, I am.  For example, each individual off peak trip to the cinema could cost me up to £10.60, but for the princely sum of £16.90 I can watch as many films as I like and believe me, I do as it saves on wear and tear of soft furnishings and utility bills in the long run.

This afternoon I went to see Money Monster (no, not Honey Monster!) and it was very good indeed.  George Clooney is indeed a fine looking gentleman.  I purchased two bottles of Sainsbury's latte prior to the performance (a snip at 80p each) and consumed them both in the cinema - it's so much better than paying those rip off refreshment prices!

The Room Above The Charity Shop

It's warm in here, well, it would be with all of the lagging surrounding the ceiling, walls and floor.  Sorry - I really haven't explained myself have I?  Well, since I last wrote I've moved into the upstairs flat of the charity shop and because it's so darn cold, I've plugged all of the gaps with unsold clothing.  Yes, it's a fire risk, but hey, I'm warm as toast ....

Why have I moved out of the family home?  Well, it's all because of Father's new woman, a 'lady' (and I use that term extremely loosely) called Mirabel.  Words fail me.