It's Sharon's birthday soon. Dave bought her a necklace last year. He says she never takes it off. We can only hope, in the interests of hygiene, that the same won't be said for the knickers he's got her this year.
Sharon's here. She's talking to mum about babies. She says if she ever has a baby boy she's going to name him Lasagne. Gran says it's ridiculous. I agree. Lasagne's quite obviously a girl's name.
I'm at Dave's & Sharon's house. Sharon's car was stolen by joyriders yesterday. Dave seems genuinely annoyed by the fact that his car wasn't deemed good enough for them. He says it's like the time they were burgled and none of his CD's were taken. To make him feel better I've slipped 'Actually' by The Pet Shop Boys into my inside jacket pocket. He has the gayest taste in music of any straight man I know. Sharon says his idiosyncratic personality just makes him all the more alluring.
I don't think I'll ever understand how love works. It seems even more complex than the book I'm currently reading: Quantum Chromodynamics and the Phenomenological Aspect of Nonperturbative Formulation.
I may call into the convenience store on my way home for a Slush Puppie. I wonder if Checkout Girl likes The Pet Shop Boys...
Sharon's here. She just got back from visiting her thick Uncle. Apparently he's still blaming his lengthy prison sentence on a 1980's Top of the Pops performance by Wham! He says things could have been totally different if George Michael hadn't worn that T-Shirt.
Sharon says the path to enlightenment is littered with many obstacles and that tranquility can only truly exist when one has learned to appreciate the sanctity of silence.
It's hard to comprehend why the new-age weirdo would choose to spend the afternoon in the company of mum and gran. After all, their incessant gossiping is hardly conducive to promoting the conditions of which she speaks.
Dad says she should try breaking into Woolworths if she wants to experience the true sanctity of silence. He's got a point.
Dave just sent me a text. He says the particle that I lost is on the news. His ignorance regarding the Higgs Boson is on a par with that of the ignorance he regularly displays towards his girlfriend, Sharon.
Sharon recently had her hair done. She was very upset when Dave didn't notice. He claims 'it's a bloke thing'. He's wrong. Even dad and I couldn't help but observe that she'd gone from platinum blond to jet black.
I worry for Dave sometimes. Yesterday he told me, in revelation of the latest Barclays Bank crisis, that he'd never trusted them. He says their staff always did look 'a bit shifty'. He's threatening to close his account. His current balance is £52.76p. They must be shitting themselves.
Sharon's here. She's having a cup of tea with gran. She says Wednesdays are always quiet on the mobile hairdressing circuit. She keeps looking at me. It's like cutting hair is some kind of addiction, and right now I'm in danger of becoming her fix.
I cut my own hair with electric clippers. I give myself a number two every other week. Sharon says people like me are killing her trade. She's talking bollocks. I've seen what she charges.
Gran says I should go to the doctors if I'm only having one number two every other week. I wish she'd get a new battery for her hearing aid.
Dave's finally gone home! His dispute with Sharon regarding Euro 2012 and a TV remote-control unit is now over. Dave claims that a dead rapper is responsible for her change of heart. Apparently Tupac Shakur told 'Psychic Sharon' that relationships only work if both partners are prepared to give and take.
Gran says she prefers Utterly Butterly to Lurpak Shakur. Mum says she can't comment because she's yet to hear Utterly Butterly's work. I'm glad things are back to normal.
It's pissing down again. Dad says he's never seen so much rain. Gran begs to differ. She keeps referring to The Great Flood of 1965. I've checked local records and can find no mention of said flood. Dad says that's because there wasn't one. Apparently gran is referring to an incident involving a faulty washing machine. This revelation has led me to reevaluate gran's other annus horribilis, that of The Great Fire of 1974. Mum has verified my suspicions. Turns out she merely burnt a piece of toast.
Dave says his gran had a horribilis annus once. He says she was forced to take antibiotics for months on end. His ability to completely miss the point of any given conversation continues to fascinate me.
Dave also says that toast cannot be burnt. He claims it's already burnt. I wish he'd go home. A dispute with Sharon regarding the custody of a TV remote-control during Euro 2012 has seen him languishing here for almost a week now!
Sharon just fell asleep whilst cutting Geoff's hair. Apparently dad's dull mate had been recounting the numerous ceilings that he's painted over the years. Mum says the bloke is a fuckin' liability and that she almost dropped-off whilst doing the ironing last week. On that occasion he'd been droning on about sandpaper and how choosing the right grade is imperative when contemplating skirting boards.
Dave's told Sharon not to worry too much about cutting through Geoff's earlobe. "It's not like he wears earrings or anything."