Mr. Swanton Discusses the Meaning of Life: Bonus Installment

They're the kinds of things in life we so often forget. And yet they can elate us to the most extraordinary degrees, if we're only willing to let the absurd feeling wash over us. Most of these acts, deeds, and related contrafibularities would be unacceptable to mention in passing conversation - but I notice them a heck of a lot. Here are just a few of the things I've done in the last week that I can count among my:

Simple pleasures!

• The all-too hilarious sound of the geese pecking at the grass outside the Castle Museum. the more I thought about it, the more I fell apart laughing. Passers-by really stared.
• Pulling faces in front of the mirror. This is particularly fun when the soundtrack to a big, flashy musical is played in the background.
• The texture of the chunky plastic keys as I type this. And the noise of the spacebar. Oddly satisfying.
• Admiring the cover art on a DVD of a classic horror film.
• Doing bad impersonations of Stephen Fry with a pipe and tweed jacket.
• Flinging a silk scarf over my shoulder every couple of seconds. And fiddling with the tassles. Tassles!
• Gelling my hair in new and ridiculous fashions.
• Being intoxicated by the glorious smell of a small bakery. This almost caused me to veer under the wheels of a van. But 'twas all in good fun!
• Admiring the scenery through the car window. Especially at night.
• Jumping up and down to catch a glimpse of some distant fireworks from the windows of the De Gray Rooms.
• Enacting a small puppet show with a black peg. Y'see - the metal bit looks like an eye, and it opens and closes like a mouth...
• Abusing old fashioned phrases, like, "How the devil are you, old boy?" Boris Karloff would be most displeased.
• Laughing at the Little Shop of Horrors DVD-R. Particularly Sam Coulson's wondrous underplaying!
• Pressing the button at the pelican crossing. Now that really does sound peculiar, but I bet you love doing it too.
• Getting up at six o'clock in the morning to watch Dracula (1931).
• Making up amusing nicknames for people.
• Belting out a Russian opera. Really, really terribly.
• Reading in bed on a night, reflecting on the day, and enjoying a bit of glorious peace.
• Placing a skull on my bookshelf so it looks like some mad scientist's laboratory.
• Rearranging my books and DVDs according to increasingly eccentric new systems.
• Marvelling at the high definition detail of the photography in a BBC interview.
• Impersonating a Victorian prostitute with the aid of a lamentable cockney accent and the inevitable words, "Strike me pink! You interest me, governor!"

That's all for now. Remember: if you comment, you're obviously far more insane than I.