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My true love pouts steadfastly at the bottom of a well

Topics: praha, nostalgia, spain

2014-07-11

As I have stated numerous times in my handwritten journals, and under these same circumstances, I have certainly neglected this poor journal. I'd say that it won't happen again, but that would be a blatant blight against future reality. Of course it will happen again. I am negligent. I lapse. I am just a small, cute pine marten, so what in the name of the deity mustelid's holy tracks along the bank of the Ebro do you expect?

I begin this entry whilst waiting for 17.00 to roll around - for siesta to end on this chatter-filled Friday. I need to buy an adapter at the local electronics market that converts HDMI to a *normal* RGB plug. You see, Marisa has left her *projector* with me. It happens to be a very ancient piece of equipment that doesn't recognize these new-fangled cables. And much to her dismay yesterday evening, we could not connect the confounded device to my *ultra-modern* laptop. She ended up calling her son to bring **her** laptop to us so we could watch the film she insisted was one of the Spanish greats. This *Spanish great* turned out to be a romantic comedy that was somewhat funny. My favourite genre of films is not romantic comedy, however, as most readers might assume. Hopefully I can expand her horizons movie-wise in the future.

Now I am off to get that adapter. **IF** they have it. If not - fuck um.

tzifur (Martenblog home)

jenju (Thurk.Org home)

@flavigula@sonomu.club

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