Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out: July 27, 2012

light reading

 
i board a virgin and turn right, with a heavy sigh.
i'm on a budget...there's a recession, you know.

hit myself in the face when i remember that i've forgotten to pre-book a seat and get wedged next to a window beside two people who on take off, recline their chairs, put on eye masks and go to sleep.

there is a fat, english boy called ollie in the seat in front of me.
he rocks on his chair throughout the flight, which rocks my inflight entertainment.
ollie breaks wind constantly.
the entire 11hr flight smells of really bad ass.
i want to suggest he sees a doctor.

the 'meal' is unusually disgusting for a virgin flight.
and the ladies serving it are too.
one has an amy winehouse style beehive and orange tan: mr branson's clearly not doing the casting himself these days.

as we're starting our descent past salt lake city and vegas, ollie shouts 'american football pitch, american football pitch'
i want to open the door for him, so he can get a better look.

on arrival to the LAX immigration hall, i discover i've brought the wrong visa update letter.
fortunately i get a dennis quaid fan who looks kindly on me and lets me in.
shock
but this HAS happened before, with a tom waits fan.

i am expecting a small car from avis.
they give me a discourteous upgrade to a chevvy implala which is unnecessarily large, white and has very small, inefficient wing mirrors.
it is an RTA waiting to happen

try to find a radio shack and fail.
drive to beverly hills where i am staying with my good friends bill, zep, jake and madeline.
their guard dog stella goes for me at the gates: teeth snarling and big barkingss, then rolls over for a tummy tickle.

i do not see any of the beverly hills housewives, so i can't tell them how much mrs.perou LOVES their show.

jake (aged 15) is away at princeton learning how to be america's next top president.
i am staying in his room which is a middle aged man's office with trophies.
there are no posters of chicks in bikinis on the wall, no band memorabilia.

jake is not normal.

these are jake's books.
i lifted the cover on 'objective-C' and couldn't even understand the 'understanding basic syntax'
i feel stupid

zep is working late
so me, bill and madeline go for an italian dinner.
my back goes ping and i start getting the over-tired fidgets.

return to beverly hills hideout to catch a little of the NBC olympic opening ceremony coverage.
as it's already happened hours before in england, i can check the news online which all talks about how amazing it was: a tremendous spectacle etc...
it might be the tiredness or the constant adverts but i cannot tell how i feel about it.

i cannot continue: go to sleep at 9.30am (5.30am GMT)