Suffer Little Children (Together With Their Parents)

The exhibition at the Hayward Gallery was completely ruined by hoardes of couples with their prams and toddlers. Who in their right fucking mind would bring babies or 2 year olds to an art exhibition show that has nothing to do with babies and toddlers? Ok, so there were some 8 year olds there too, and that's fine. They could look at all the inventions and marvel at some of the more contemporary art works, but babies just scream and toddlers run about making a nuisance of themselves. If I was a parent I'd find someone to babysit the kids then go to the show. Fuck, the exhibition is on until January so it's not like they were pressed for time.

I also ended up seeing a celebrity. I stalked him for about ten minutes before getting lost in my general hatred for everyone in the place and feeling like I'd wasted 9 pounds. Yes! Fucking 9 pounds for lining up to see some old picture on a book while little minging beasts slobbered over the glass cases.

I decree today that children MUST be banned from art exhibitions and museums (unless there's a room they can be kept in at all times while the parents walk around.)

***

Today, I've watched 4 episodes of Spaced in a row, ate some scrambled eggs with toast and Earl Grey tea, then took a nice long bath in the dark... and with Candle's company! You'll be glad to know that Candle is still doing fine. Unfortunately, our bathroom doesn't have a window - it's one of those bathrooms that, when you turn on the light, a propeller comes on to suck away all the stinky air. I turned off the lights after I had filled up the bathtub, lit Candle and three of his little siblings, and lay in the bathtub for what felt like a century.

The remaining of the day looks like this: shops for food and detergent, video games, book on Tibetan Buddhism, dinner, chit chat, music, bed.