Cocky Cow

No, I'm not slinging around insults. I'm simply referring to the cattle-variety in the field across my house. For some reason, this particular specimen has adopted rooster-habits. Every morning, at the crack of dawn, one of the local roosters starts off the day with a crowing session. Quite normal, one would think, if it weren't for the fact that one of the cows has taken to "crowing" along with him. For a whole half hour each morning, we're greeted with incessant moo-ing, in response to the crowing. I'm normally up bright and early and find it amusing rather than annoying, but waking up to this unlikely duet with a stinking hangover is far less entertaining. My Saturday morning therefore didn't start off all that well.

It got gradually worse when I realised there were no painkillers in the house. I was suposed to be at the Belgian Gay Pride by noon, but somehow ended up at a DVD-store and eventually crashed, quite miserably, in a heap on the sofa. Thankfully I was soon joined by my brother, who felt, if possible, even worse for wear.

That's the deal with going out in a familiar city tho I supose, something which I'm still not entirely accustomed to. Anonimity goes straight out the window and you never quite end up where you aimed for. One initially goes to an art-expose with a friend [free drinks and artsy-fartsy-ness-a-go-go] but inevitably bumps into friends or family and things just develop from there: End up at strange private parties, entirely uninvited and in several different pubs, fully invited. I got offered a very respectable job at one point, but felt a tad too "happy, footloose and fancy-free" to accept it. [Might regret that at some point!]. At any rate, I got served a few too many things of very dubious quality at a few too many random establishments and I guess I paid the price for accepting them. Am seriously considering a return to my T-Total days.

On a different note. Might I recommend: Happy Endings & Proof. Both excellent sofa-day viewing. Maggie Gyllenhal!! And Jake.