moving frames

mostly what's happening in my life is boring, generic things. little items of everyday life moving in and out of the frame.

this week i started with a beard, now i have a moustache; but that is completely understood because, as everyone knows, moustaches come from beards.

my rent was due on the first, but i don't want to live at Victory Towers anymore because one of the old men that lives there smokes out his window and lies about it like a rebellious 14 year old.

he makes the whole house smell of stale cigarettes and misery.

time to move out.

not to worry though, a new place has been found. it overlooks the railway, has a room for me to move in and they don't smoke cigarettes in the house.

done.

(they do have a cat, and by they i mean the one guy. but there were no cat hair anywhere ... i don't see it to be a problem)

(although if you remember from the story that i didn't write, so you can't remember it because i didn't write it, about four months ago i nearly stayed in a house with a couple of cats . Geevee would've been a great roomie, but her cats showed their preference loud and clear. the tiny cat particles were too much for my asthmar to handle)

in closing, it seems my life is just made up on one little item of life moving in and out of the frame in the five minutes it took for you to read this far.

thanks for tuning in, and until i write again

i'll leave you with a few moustache pictures to warm you heart.

cheers,

--b