D i a r y

25th November 1997

Realised that it's a month to christmas.  It wasn't the date that 
gave it away, it was the fact that Lolita is playing with sprouts.  
She juggles them, bounces them and pretends to brutally murder them, 
all in the name of "fun a month before christmas".  The horrible 
thing is, though, that she then puts the same sprouts in her 
Christmas dinner.  She says it's a tradition.  She's bloody weird!  
Anyway, allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Orange Albert.  
Quite how I ended up Orange is a matter for my mother, the doctors and
the police to sort out.  Basically, it involves hospital decorators
spilling orange paint on my mother before I was born.  I might reveal
more if I feel like it later on.
Who's Lolita?  Well she's a strange girl who just wandered into my 
life (and house) one day.  She asked for a packet of sugar and ended 
up shutting herself up in the attic.  She still lives up there and 
comes down once a day to nick my food (and to juggle sprouts).  
People ask me why I don't get the police to arrest her.  Well, I 
suppose I like knowing she's there.  A kind of company for me, you
know?


3rd December 1997

Woke up to find one of my toes had dropped off.  I wondered why
this was and then found out that that the central heating had broken
in the night.  Rang for a plumber and then sat waiting for him to 
arive whilst trying to force my toe back into its socket...

4th December 1997

...finally managed the toe thing.  With the help of the plumber.  He
used a 'reverse plunger' whatever one of those is.  He fixed the 
central heating as well.  It was good to feel the warmth return to my
house.  Unfortunately, an African Elephant was attracted by the warmth
and found his way into the house (basically, he broke the door down).
Can't be bothered to fix the door, so I'll just keep my home open to 
anyone who wants to come in.  Made the elephant a cup of tea and went
to bed.

11th December 1997

You may have wondered why I have not written this diary for a few
days, well it's all to do with the elephant...  In the middle of the
night it crept into my room (well, as easily as elephants can creep)
and sat on my head.  Of course, I woke up straight away, wondering 
what the hell was going on.  By the time I had realised what was 
happening it was too late.  My head was irreversibly crushed.  What 
happened then was bizarre.  The elephant seemed to feel sorry for me
and threw me up on his back and took me down the stairs past all the 
vagrants who had decided to take up my home as a kind of refuge.  The 
elephant and I went all the way to hospital where it chucked me off
and stomped away (I think the head of the herd was calling).  
The doctors rushed me in and tried to perform an emergency head 
transplant.  For a couple of days last week I had the head of a gibbon
but that scared me every time I looked in the mirror, so they agreed 
to give me a plaster version of my old head.  Okay, so I look a bit 
like Frank Sidebottom now, but at least that means I might get a 
chance to work with Factory Records' Tony Wilson if they do another
series of 'Remote Control'.

16th January 1998

Have finally got my life back to normal.  The vagrants have left, the
elephant is nowhere to be seen and I am happy.  Or at least I was 
until I opened the post.  Some idiot had tried to send me a mail bomb.
Unfortunately for them though, they must have spelt it 'male bomb' on
the order form.  What happened was a man walked though my door and 
"I have come to destroy you".  Following this, he exploded all over 
the floor.  Left my house in a complete mess...  Cleaned up for the 
rest of the day.  I wonder who sent the bomb?

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