Keanu Reeves. He was a white van driver who parked his van on my snowy front lawn and, after some months absence (or so it would seem from the expository dialogue), had come back to plight his troth. Very sweet.
Certainly I'm impressed at the calibre of celeb in my subconscious this morning. Definitely several steps up from recent offerings and far, far cuter to boot. However, I do wonder if the fact that I'm blogging these celeb cameos, (in a night otherwise filled with aliens boiling bits of the world with lasers and frying people's hands, plane flights to NY to visit military personnel where I was joined by my musician friend Svetlana, and trying to find my small bottles of shampoo in the gym changing rooms. Go figure.), has become a self-fulfilling thing. I feel obliged, having started, to track this streak of celeb cameos until it naturally concludes, but knowing that, is my subconscious now throwing them up deliberately? I mean, there are more celebs in the world than I can dream of, so we could be here some time.
Or maybe this is actually just a reflection of the fact that I'm finding nothing else of interest to blog about, and can't be arsed to put the mental work required into writing some sort of op-ed piece?
Still, at least I'm not blogging about amusing things the cats have done, although having said that, I must mention that the new kitten from No. 1 is giving all our cats a really hard time. Bloody wimps – it's half the size of Fflwff but still rags on her. Mind you, I have recently discovered that Fflwff, monstrous huge as she is, is actually frightened of house flies – whenever one comes near her she bolts in panic.
Oh no… I've done it… I've started blogging about my cats. Please forgive me – I fear I've plumbed new depths this morning. I promise, I'll blog something interesting in the next few days from New York.
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