This is the only ambition I’ve got that’s about owning something. I never pass a bouncy castle without feeling thoroughly begrudging towards the little people boinging about on it, oblivious to the long hard years of exclusion from boinging that await them. All that will change, though, if I ever become stupidly wealthy, when the charitable causes, family responsibilities and student debts will have to wait until I’ve succeeded in purchasing the ultimate bouncy castle. It will have swings, wide enough to accommodate adult arses comfortably, from which grown-ups can fling themselves into the merrilly boinging throng below. Any injuries sustained will be more than compensated for by the thrill of once again ripping my shoes off and clambering up onto the feety-smelling castle of bounce.
Siun's Life List
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1. Write a book
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2. Take self-defence classes
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3. Learn to paint
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4. Make my dolls' house into a true letch lair
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5. Own a bouncy castle with built in swings, sturdy enough for adults
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6. grow my own vegetables
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7. Do some really good anthropology somewhere interesting and far away
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8. Live in a language other than English
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Having seen my valiant grandfather take up art classes (as well as the internet) in his eighties, I reckon this is stuff I should learn to do while my eyes still work OK.
I’ve got this three story wooden Georgian-style dolls’ house that I built from a kit when I was younger but never got up the energy to properly decorate. Now I want to make it into an uber-kitsch dream home for its imaginary inhabitant. It won’t have actual dolls because they scare my boyfriend and it’s more fun to imagine the little people. I want to graffiti the outside with those felt tip pens you get with wee air pumps that give a spray effect, and the bedroom will have a mirrored ceiling, circular leopard-print bed (possibly motorised to spin around) etc. I keep thinking of more stuff to put in…any suggestions? Hot tub with bubbles? Mirror ball? Haven’t worked out whether people can comment on entries on this site yet, but if you can, any suggestions would be welcome! The term “letch lair” was coined by my old flatmate who was Chinese and learning English. He had a fascination with certain words and a great flair for twisting everyday language into brilliant combinations – thus “letch lair”, the lair of the lecherous, a mythical place that my dolls’ house will only ever be able to sketchily approximate.
