Weekend

Saturday Airport, curry (bizarre pint as I wait, during which strange patriotism is exhibited around me). Call from the airport to celebrate free scran. Rugby World Cup Final is wallpaper and brings memories of Tom. Early to bed. Sunday 'Control' at FACT. An interesting venue, an interesting film. I see it in the box and wasn't prepared for the array of two seater sofa type things in there. Very bohemian, reminded me of something I think I read in the Godfather. OK the movie was a cheery exercise in the life and death of Ian Curtis, 'er maybe not. Mind you that doesn't make it a bad film and the fact that at no point didn't I want the hanging to happen earlier has to be a good sign. The lack of rustling sweet wrappers was a good guide to the quality of the film. Sure it has great music but that is to be expected but on reflection I'm getting confused about Ian Curtis the real person and the screen versions. It's a bit like Tony Wilson, if I think of him at all, I see Steve Coogan mentally. Wierd. So unhappy in a joyous sort of way I head home. Cook a fine meal, watch shite TV, finish my news bash. Feed the cat. Open a bottle of beer. Sort an answering service.