Well well well. Loopy Luna the cRaZy cat lady just called me up. She has apparently taken out a restraining order against me. I am unsure what for. I have done nothing but be nice to her, do her shopping for her, help her out where I can. Seemingly Mike putting his feet up at her house "damaged her table" and that my leaving comment of "maybe go to the shops for once?" upset her a great deal.
Now, Luna gets £200 a week for doing bugger all. Their is nothing wrong with her. All her rent and tax is paid for. I have to scrounge around just to get something to eat, living with the fear of eviction and having all my worldly good seized every day, and she what? She takes out a restraining order against me? What on earth? I mean come on. I know she must work real hard pressing those television remote buttons, and going to the beach party, getting a taxi to cross the street. I know she has a degree (although no-one has actually seen her certificate) and that her harp playing is exquisite (she has not yet begun to tune the instrument).
It is of no account. If I wish to live among such people, whose catch-phrase is "the Romans weren't pagans Max" (she thinks all Romans were Christians) then I will stay here. Likely. Yeah. Sure.
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