Wednesday 22 July 2015

#113 Chairs

I ain't chose blogging. Blogging chose me.

This weekend marked a turning point in history. As well as making it to thirty one, I also discovered that my speakers, which I picked up for about £50 fourteen years ago, were old enough to look and indeed be "retro" so they're now stacked on top of my chest of drawers, near to an old but sturdy metal chair that I got from a charity shop. Hey presto, part of my room looks cheap and crappy. Cheap and crappy is all the rage at the moment. If you like that sort of thing. I do. Because it's cheap.

In the war against humanity, Keira, one of the animal kingdom's few remaining combatants, today ordered herself to deploy a homemade biological weapon on seat of Liz's wheelie chair. The chair, which had become, from the usual cat hair and furballs, too gross to sit on many weeks ago, was now completely toxic. It's pretty normal for Keira to launch small scale attacks from time to time but rarely is it where she sleeps. Liz suggested that maybe she needed the bathroom but was too lazy to get up. Another of my housemates has been known to articulate such a feeling from time to time but has, at least so far, always gotten up in the end.