Giraffes in the Grass

Last night, after hours of wallowing in the caged boredom of my bedroom, I received a phone call. 

  "The Zoo?" I said.

"Free?" I said. 

"Why, yes," I said. 

We took the train. Children were rampant; they are cute, but spread quickly. The government should look into that. We announced ourselves at the gate and were immediately admitted. After several minutes staring at some sleeping lions, we found a patch of wet grass suitably beyond the schools of children, and had a smoke. The rest of the day was highly amusing. There is footage. The Giraffes were my special favourite. I purchased a plastic monkey head on a stick and a cube with water and plastic penguins inside. Both held me inthralled for long minutes in the store, and I couldn't bare to leave without them. 

I have some cake in my bag, so I must go an indulge, before I pass out at the key-board. I understand why children are so shrill after a day at the Zoo. I'm exhausted. I'm going play with  my plastic monkey head while I eat. 

Quote of the Day:

Rosie: "The girl that used to live here, she said, 'do you wanna move into the laundry'..."

Richie: "The laundry?"

Rosie: "Nah, she said 'do you want the washing machine, thirty bucks..."