#We're S.H.O.Pee Pee I.N.G, We're Shopping# (sound of Title Barrel being scraped)
I'm getting too domesticated, having settled in to this new house so well with "the bird".
For the first time in my life today, I got a little bit over-excited in a shop that either wasn't a record/computer/video game shop, or Selfridges in the Bullring at Birmingham (the most incredibly stylish shop, a work of art both inside and out - CLICK HERE for a few external photos from VirtualBrum.co.uk - just don't CLICK HERE whilst you're there if you value your sanity - Birmingham It's Bostin Mate, another trojan into yer internal jukebox from B3ta's Rob Manuel.)
But I digress.
No, the shameful root (a phallic root vegetable?) of my exitement was some lamps and bedside tables in Focus, the Best Shop Ever. And I even bought some fuse wire. Exciting.
Even more exciting was MFI. It was just like walking through a hundred people's living rooms, kitchens, and bathrooms (without them being in the nuddy), all joined together as if it was the housing complex of some weirdly social yet personal-space-protecting cult.
Or maybe it was like being on a movie set. Each room had been "individualised" to give it human warmth, including a hypochondriac's study (containing endless books on countering and pre-empting diseases). It was AYCE! If we ever get round to filming the sequel to Hormone Hell (if I ever get the guts to put the miniskirt back on), this'll be the place to sneak the cameras in to - every location, fully furnished.
The only trouble with all this massive shopping excitement was, me being Berk Boy, I'd not had a piss when I had the chance before setting out, as "I wanted to see what the toiletting facilities in Tesco were like". The facilities were the bridge under the canal (complete with scary Matrix graffiti - "We remember thee Zion"); I gave them a miss.