This blog is entirely factual, but you'd probably be better reading it as fiction. Names have been changed.
It happened again, kadunk. Ten thirty in morning. The same every day. It's my new alarm clock. Three days in a row.
I got up and opened my curtains. The outline of a bird. Superimposed atop all the grime and muck, Sellotape and finger marks, ingrained cigarette smoke - three impact angels. Every detail recorded in sharp relief. A palimpsest of avian idiocy.
I opened the window.
Sure enough he was down their again. The same stupid bugger. Hobbling about dazed and confused. Not seriously hurt. No doubt he'll be back again tomorrow. I leaned out and smoked a tab. Made sure he was okay. He buggered off eventually. Magenpies are tough as nails. Or so I've come to learn.
The first time it happened it scared me shitless. I didn't know what the fuck was going on. Thought anything could be happening. I'm not a morning person.
I like birds. I've got loads of books, draw and paint 'em. Corvids are meant to be dead clever. Dolphin level clever. Yet he flies into the same window every day, same curtained window every day. It's not even a clear flight, a clear run up. I don't know how he manages it. Tetskaja says somebodies cast a spell on him/me. But that's her explanation for everything.
Being that I like birds (both types) the first time naturally I legged it down stairs and went to see if he was alright. He wasn't grateful. Neither was Mankad. I nearly knocked over all of his cold water separation palaver. I don't know what he was doing, going about that in the kitchen at ten thirty, but you never can with Mankad, or anyone else I live with. I'm the sane one.
I didn't break any of it though. He wouldn't have to drive around half of Brum to visit another however many pharmacies. He's deadly on that scooter so its probably a good thing (not that many are about nowadays).
Mankad's quite an interesting character. He went to one of those posh schools where you pay. But he's not a bad bloke. He's quite sound really. He spent some time in India. Came back and set him self up as a kind of Guru figure, which took some balls considering he's white and posh. He got the idea watching some Made in Chelsea programme. Stupid rich people with more money than sense. He saw an episode where they each spent five hundred quid to have a session with some guy talking to eggs. I kid you not.
He's got a load of clients. My personal favourites are the celebrity lookalikes. People who get paid to, well I don't know what they get paid for really. I guess just looking like famous people. But anyways, there were a couple of these, Cheryl Tweedy and Liam Payne, who take it all a bit too seriously. They got married like their real versions and also somehow heard they had a Guru, so naturally they got Mankad. Stupid buggers. He's become their defacto marriage counsellor, its well funny. Their real versions have split up so they don't know what to do.
They told their friends about him so he's got a few now. Before the lockdown we were getting visits from fake D listers all the time. You'd think the neighbours might comment, but they've come to expect daft stuff from our house. Its par for the course.
He also gets lots of posh Londoners. In their weird world visiting a squat in a shit part of Brum is dead vogue. Real Peaky Blinders. Mankad gets me to answer the door and ham up my accent so they get an 'authentic' experience. I've drawn the line at wearing a flat cap. I can do a Brummie accent fine, but I just use my normal Wolvo. They can't tell the difference and yam-yam dialect is more fun to play around with. Better words.
Anyways that's enough about the Guru Mankad Pradesh for today. This blogs meant to be about me (sort of).
Today I have - been woken up by a bird (not one in bed unfortunately)
- made a cheese toasty
- listened to a replay of Ben Stokes Headingly miracle
- played cricket with the Asian kids in ginnel round back (all within the rules of social distancing, the wicket is a wheely bin. They are family so can stand next to. If I bat they bowl and wickey, always at least two meters away. Then when we change I go inside. They move and I come out and bowl)
- had a bath
- read a book
- played online chess
Talking of chess, I got an email from the BDCL. Some bright spark has finally come up with an idea of setting up an online tournament (whilst we can't play face to face). I only started playing again this season so didn't have a rating. A couple of my mates still play for the club. I got invited to a pre-season meeting. Much like the Dr Guru Mankad Pradesh's relationship with his clients. The club saw me coming, made me captain of my division team.
But enough about that, that's enough from me today, until tomorrow P