The quinoa has been cooking for 3 hours and is still....crunchy. Something is wrong. Why do lint and weeds exist? These are the kind of things I ponder as I hang out the washing. Having just finished a radio brief on the middle class, I marvel that I fit into this group...sort of..as I've never felt so working class. I've begun fantasising about what it might be like to have somebody come to mow the lawns whilst I get a pedicure.
This is the kind of town that has many many many gym TV screens turned on at the same time, as well as endless gift shops filled with strange and ugly things, but no tarragon.
Monday, March 9, 2009
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