irked

being irked seems to be an permanent ongoing state for me.
the actual irks come and go, the state of irk stays.

as i was out this evening and there was a fine drizzle coming down i was wondering to myself where is winter hiding. it seems very shy this year. not sure why i am complaining as i have no heating, so a mild winter is the best for me.
but as i am a contrarian i can't help but like the winter - full on cold, ice, snow and rain.
call me odd if you must.

well tongiht it was just a fine drizzle.
that didn't stop the people with super large umbrellas from coming out in force and opening up their marquees on sticks and then deciding that they are just going to walk happily down the pavement and ignoring everyone else.
they are not going to move that fucking brolly - you have to get out of their way.

i tell you where i would like to stick that bumbershoot.

the second thing to irk me today (there were others but it is late and i want to keep this short) was to do with choice.
i love books. i have more books than most people. i have more books than i could read in a lifetime, i probably have enough unread books that i never need to buy a new one and still not finish them before my dotage kicks in.
i had finished a rather disappointing crime novel last night.
so i needed something new to read tonight.
i had a hankering for some horror.
do i have some horror novels. yes. could i find one. no.
so now what?
as i looked at piles, shelves and boxes of books nothing shouted out at me 'read me you fat fuck. read me'. no all i got was 'you might like me' or 'i'm an ok read' or 'you've been meaning to read me for a long time.'
aaaargh too much choice.

in the end i found a horror, of a sorts. so now i am going to curl and see if nancy a. collins is as much fun as she was back when i first read her in the 90s and before sexy and hip vampires became the default mode for pretty much every horror writer (oh ok i am exaggerating that point, just a little bit).
now i am just irked by the ugly typeface that futura, the publishers, have chosen.

shit: sometimes there is no pleasing me.