Because I have been ill since approximately last Thursday, I have been home a lot with nothing to do but feel sorry for myself and be bored and read some ridiculous books.
In the midst of all the books I had that couldn't keep my attention, I found one that was slightly hilarious. (It's British, could you guess?) Not that it was a spectacular book, by any means, but the writer did really good characters.
So here is one of my favorite bits:
(picture a 35 year old man....)
"...I felt there was no point waiting for him to snatch the initiative. I should move first - act, not respond; see that the situation played out on my terms.
So, I screamed as loud as I could and ran like f--- to my car.
I was at the driver's side door in seconds, but it was a million years later than I would have preferred. If I'd thought that I'd terrify the Camo Killer into a scrambling retreat by unexpectedly racing down the road away from him, shrieking like a six-year-old girl, then I was wrong. He was obviously made of sterner stuff than that. Not only wasn't he taking the opportunity to escape, but he had now actually started to race after me. My eyes bulging, I stared at him over the top of my car and screamed at F sharp above top C one more time, just to show him I meant business..."
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