The Wizard of Oz remains creepy

Three teams of two.
Twenty-four hours.
One surreal day.

That is the challenge I threw at the feet of my housemates a couple of days ago. The team that manages to have the most surreal day as judged by the other teams will be victorious. They win nothing bar respect and a fine story that they will tell and re-tell until it becomes distorted to the point of fabrication. Each team will take a digital camera to provide proof of the events they say they experienced.

While we have yet to pick a day for this monumental event, I have been trying to up the ante of surreal events within the house. So far I've spent a day dressed as a pirate without explanation, covered every door with cling film at 4.00 am and swapped the bedsheets in two rooms. I am aware of the fine line between surreal and prank and I blur that line furiously.

I bought a suit in Oxfam for £15. It smells of old man, cigars, death and oil. I like to think it was a gift from Castro to Saddam, but more likely it just belonged to a tramp with a fondness for diesel.

In other news the film I have been starring in is now completed and I shall watch it in a matter of hours. It's called "The Idiot's Guide to Filmmaking" and my character is a self-absorbed, plagarising hack of a writer-director. For some reason it wasn't that much of a stretch to get into character. Hmm, who knew?

I have run out of books that I haven't read yet. I require more. Recommend me something to purchase. Please...

I have unholy needs.