I just came home from the cinema, where I watched a movie about me, The Queen. It was very kind from the Academy to give Hellen Mirren an Oscar, even though she is of course nothing like me. Still, the movie was nothing like The Last King Of Scotland. A lot of blood, and the fellow from Scotland had that barbaric accent. But it touched my cold heart, so I have to somehow admit it was a bit of a masterpiece.
Twice this week I got scared for my life. Once yesterday evening, when I decided to have a run on the track in the nearences of my residence aqnd two disrespectul young men approached. I never wanted my guard so much than then. Secondly, today, after the cinema. I played some table football, or however that barbaric game is called, when some young gentelmen from "Down-under" countries approached and threatened us to take the balls. I admit that we had their balls, but we didn't put them there, we just found them on our table. Such rudeness, threatning me.
I have mixed amongst the ordinary people, too. I payed a visit at the student's dormitory on Ilirska street in Ljubljana. Since my advisors said, that I should use some modern expressions from time to time, I will describe my tuesday evening as "hanging out". I met some old acquintances of mine, talked about the good old times, and visited Emonic cellar and KMŠ. I found the wiritings on the walls of KMŠ, reminding me I am in Ljubljana, very disturbing. I can hold some glasses of alcohol and remember where am I.
I have to admit I red a book of a french author. Marcel Pagnol's "La Gloire de Mon Pere". Bloody French, I never learned to like them. But I envy them their Provence. Perhaps I shall start a war.
God save The Queen (me).
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