Appetite For Destruction.

I started the day by knocking a framed poster that's been up in my kitchen since I moved in eleven years ago off the wall with the legs of my ironing board, smashing the glass and sending it flying everywhere

(My life is all thrills.)

It was galling to start the morning with such catastrophic slapstick. It may sound low-level to you, but the sound of shattering glass and the subsequent sweeping up (with my cat at my feet) was too much for a man who'd only just woken up. It didn't bode well for the rest of the day. 

Thankfully, it wasn't a sign of things to come. After cleaning up the Kitchen Incident (Guns N' Roses album title?), I walked / ran to Hitchin station, to get the train into London for a casting. I arrived at the suite in good time, so I decided to set up camp on a bench outside, to eat my lunch before I went in. My actor friend Adam Astill suddenly appeared next to me while I was mid-banana, surprising me and then reassuring me about the nature of the casting, which he'd been in for himself. It's always nice to see a friendly face. 

The audition went well enough for me to feel I'd satiated the demons of my early-morning ornament distruction, but didn't inspire me enough to rescue the remains of the frame that slipped behind the recycling bin; that's a job for Future David and not for me. 

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