You can tell it's summer when the tinfoil-hat brigade start coming out in droves. I think the institutions need a bit of a breather from time to time, so when it's sunny all the inmates go 'Care In The Community' and the staff have a barbecue and sink some cold beers. It's the only explanation I can come up with for the sudden upsurge in weirdoes.
Like this one
tee hee) OK, OK, I'm joking. A bit. *ahem* No it's Mr Hatadi, he of the noirish stare, pictured here innocently lurking in the Pitt Street bookshop (Sydney) with a copy of some bearded tit's book stuck to his face. And let that be a lesson for you all: don't read crime fiction and play with superglue! At least, I think that's why the pages are all stuck together... shudder...
Mind you, I can see another one of those bloody 'If you like Ian Rankin, etc.' stickers on it, so I can assume the RRFFF will be out in force once more with their pointy sticks and beady little eyes.
In more traditional freakage, Agent Phil (small and hairy: like a vole in a suit, only more... feral) has been getting them too. The following conversation has been lovingly transcribed from an unsolicited telephone call he got on Monday:
Caller (bellowing throughout): `Yeah, hello?
Agent Phil: Hello, can I help you?
C: (to a third party) What's his name again?
Third Party: Mark Hayward.
C: Yeah, hello, hello, is that Mark?
AP: No, Mark has left, can I help?
C: Yeah, do you poetry.
C: Well, it says in the book you do.
AP: No, it says in the book no poetry or plays.
C: Do you do song lyrics, then?
AP: No. I am sorry we can't help you.
C: Well, fuck you, then. CLICK
Isn't that special? What a lovely person. I'm guessing the poetry they're trying to flog isn't of the 'moon in June' variety. Wonder if they're PERFORMANCE POETS! Saving the world one simile and metaphor at a time. Wearing their underpants outside their trousers, so everyone can see the skid marks.
Anyone else suffering from the 'differently thinking'?