spoons

i'm in the schroder suite again, avoiding work.
i did end up speaking to anthony last night late on. the england match had been on though so he was pissed to the extent of babbling nonsense about spoons and the Independant Newspaper.
i spent about an hour and a half trying to convince him that sleeping on the streets was not a good idea and that i couldn't come and see him because i was in washington, and he was in portsmouth, and there's god knows how many hundred miles between the two.
he wouldn't believe me though.
god knows how or where he is today. probably locked up for assaulting anyone who tried to move him from his little patch of pavement. i honestly don't care how he is today. he said so many hurtful things about me; he was on the phone to my mother for ten minutes explaining to her how selfish, uncaring, hollow a person i am.
i hope he did sleep on the streets - i hope he nearly froze to death.