I slept through the guns, assuming they fired this year. And slept through being able to get a free disappointing Navy breakfast of mince on toast (something I have never abided). When I did wake I had dad's home-made ANZAC biscuits for breakfast as they are basically solid porridge and then finally finished reading Jasper Fforde's Constant Rabbit. It was very good. For some reason I was slightly too taken with the line "London is just one massive money-laundering scheme attached to an impressive public transport system and a few museums, of which even the most honest has more stolen goods than a lock-up garage in Worcester rented by a guy I know called Chalky." I also enjoyed the complaining in text about surnames that start with Ff.
Now about to start a book I had arrive in the mail earlier in the week - something I bought purely as it had won a bunch of things.
[Edit:13:38 but don't want to make another whole entry for a single note]
I read the book. Flamer by Mike Curato. It was too close, too much like a gut punch, too familiar, to be enjoyable for me. I think it might be good, but I regret buying it. I guess I will lend it to people, or maybe donate it to the library (since I bought it in hardback).
Now taking the plastic off the Y: The Last Man Omnibus that has been sitting on my lounge floor for a couple of weeks.
Oh, I didn't mention that yesterday I watched the Shadow and Bone first season. I have some issues with the adaptation making everything rushed, underdeveloped and with very flat characters. It is better than I expected but did screw up some of the only things the books did well.
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