oh please

December 7, 2006

it’s like the only saturday ever, so like, you’re not gong to let me take it because I’m so, like, indispensable, that you pay me 6 grand to stand here being polite to people who should really stick a pencil in their ear, like, you know? well that’s about it really I suppose so, like, I’ll just be a misery all day and then write some kind of like angst-ridden song about your middle-aged hair and licking bottoms and stuff, like, so, like, when you read this you’ll know, right. you’ll so know it, right.

except it wasn’t like that. we didn’t talk like that then.

snatch

December 5, 2006

while its apparent I have 15 minutes to gloss over the calamity of non-attendance it will surely be bafta talk when the first productions are screened in assembly although apparently she missed a vital bit and he wasn’t completely taken with the final cut after his collaborator snipped in with the effects and made everything random but it’s only half a morning and after we’ve dropped in to essex for a quick list of things not to get we’ll mash up the remains and make a video pie for the unfortunate children in the street.

I did one of those marble paintings once and a rather nice drawing of a woodpecker.

living/dead

December 1, 2006

The man over the road who runs the pub dropped dead the other day. 43 years old. I just saw the funeral party drive past as a CityCare leaf-sucker winds his way up and down the path outside our house, waving on terrified pedestrians. Everyone is arriving for the wake. They look pretty smart in their black suits. Some of them are quite enjoying it, as they nip into M&Ms to get a few more fags, while others can’t quite let go, and are gathering by the car park, not quite sure what they are supposed to do next. The black Mercedes is leaving. It’s reversing into everybody who’s just come down from the cathedral.

Then they’ve all gone. Except for the few who outlived him and don’t understand why, who are slowly being aided down the road, walking sticks lightly poking the leaves that haven’t been sucked yet.

It looks like Jim has revised his priorities. I just got off the phone to someone who’s working hours at Sun are killing them. The leaf sucker is doing another run across the front of the Black Horse. He’s very good at it. I’ll read Karl Minns later and everything will be alright. I don’t overdo anything. I’m not even here half the time.

you were out

November 30, 2006

and we knocked really hard. but I was there. I just wasn’t listening. I rather like the idea of driving for 30 minutes to the single sorting office on the other side of town to queue for a further 340 minutes behind people from newmarket road trying to understand what the gentleman behind the counter with the ponytail is trying to tell them about why their enormous package to charles in new zealand never made it because they didn’t put a customs stamp on and about 17 hearstsease girlfriends doing returns to argos and freemans, as old mrs miggings struggles to comprehend that size really does matter and that A4 envelope is not a letter at all but it’s an enormous unwieldy parcel which some poor delivery driver will have to break their back simply lifting it to a letterbox and so that’s why it costs twice as much as last time, dear.

it’s exciting, I can’t deny it. but then, I don’t get out much. I even like going to chapelfield, because it’s got people in. except house of fraser, of course.

publish to global

November 29, 2006

that’s what it’s there for so as you meander through the troughs of plebian and lob a few camels into the traction engine of doubt you might spare a diatribe for the demented bucket wielders over the catflap factory as they never get sat down before the bus pulls off where it’s too blinken late for none of that bloody books and stuff but good lord you can’t believe we’re peering over the lip of winter with angels at our tails and all you can talk about is sausages.

for amongst us she pined as was deft o’er the platitudes whereupon we did stumble lest we dropped our faces and she were to trip lightly through the shattered remains of our ignoble trenchant jaws that nay dropped like stones as she parted the air with presence alone.

ere. that’s a single. you’ll have to buy a return. and another single. what do you think this is. christmas?

power vol

November 28, 2006

just two places to stick it and the other is off so just in the one and then presto it’s five times one and while they’re falling over eastern europe I’m clicking it this way until the standby is tacked to your chest and everything sprouts christmas polyps in the windows of children with their african art and always open curtains when it’s time for the revolution you’ll be stuck in waitrose but here is where the fimo cats are feral and the headhunters are made of clay so just pop on the webcam and you’ll see it’s true. I’ve disappeared under a pile of tissue.

genesis 21:30

November 24, 2006

well, they better be good. I’ve not been to a stadium since I was employed as a not-so-very burly security person at the sheffield arena when paul simon played the most intolerably boring 2 hours of music I’ve ever had the displeasure to have my back turned to helping old people to the toilet and trying to work out just why the sound in that place was so bad and it’s clear it’s because it was built to house students playing ice hockey and gymnastics and not dire straits who for some reason I also found myself sitting watching at some point wondering why I couldn’t hear what they were playing even though obviously we were in the same room it’s just a huge room made of metal with the worst acoustics outside the lower common room with 15000 people thinking the same thing.

last time I witnessed this lot was 24 years ago with peter gabriel when I still wore lumberjack shirts with the arms and collars cut off and had sticky-up hair although in this case at was raining for 17 hours and so all I really had was a mouthful of boots hairspray and a bootful of milton keynes finest mud from the lip of the bowl where 40 somethings were murmuring supper’s ready under their breath who will now be 60 or 70 somethings doing the same but wondering whether all those seats on the pitch make the grass too flat for rugby and where’s the not-so-burly security guard when you need the toilet.

I’m not sure whether there’ll be six of the best or just 3 of the best with all those session musicians wheeled out again but please make sure you don’t cock up anything from the lamb lies down on broadway and consider closing with los endos. in fact, if you just do the whole of seconds out I’ll be happy but maybe leave out that wind and wuthering nonsense and put in the other bits from the first live album and don’t bother with anything after duke. I bet twickenham section 21 row 30 is behind a lighting rig and I won’t see anything anyway. I’ll probably be sitting through cinema show wondering about the traffic on the way home. slap me if you see that happening.

And he said, These seven ewe lambs shalt thou take of my hand, that it may be a witness unto me, that I have digged this well. it was more like And I said, Fleece me of my one hundred and thirty seven new pounds, that I may be a witness of the reunion, that I shall dig, man, but it’s close.

don’t I know you?

November 23, 2006

oh, no. it’s just that for a moment I thought that you might be one of those people who used to wear overcoats in summer and loiter around a wall in town just frowning under your fringe and then spending 3 hours in the underground cafe with one cup of coffee and 15 likeminded other overcoat wearing pointy boot wearing black and white wearing teenage smoker smelling angst-ridden sticky-up-hair protecting youths just waiting for something to happen which never does in this town right so lets go to Jarrolds and sit in there for another 3 hours because you get 2 cups for the price of one there and no I’m not hot shutup anyway what’s that on your shirt that’s rubbish eyeless in gaza hahaha I’m going to Andy’s to see if I can find anything in the right place what are you doing tonight I’m up the Murderers int it.

I’d still do that if I could but I don’t have the hair anymore and anyway everyone does it now but when we did it there was only like about 5 of us and everyone knew who we were not like all these emos outside the forum etc…

red hair deck shoes

November 22, 2006

shoulders up against the wind and a nifty collar zipped up to the chin unaware of the news she steps into the leafy quagmire to sidestep a few of the less I know but the even less I understand and it’s probably off to BHS for a new scarf because that one she got from melanie got dropped over the lip of the shropshire union canal when the jag was going through a dry patch with the hoodies and the bicycle frames of the afterlife that are chained to the residents spaces at the clough end of the flaming lips.

if you can read this you’re too close

shouldn’t have done that

November 21, 2006

I only meant I needed to do it for my own benefit. not yours. don’t stick it on your roadmap and don’t mention it in the forward qx planning meeting for the program so that it gets stuck in the collabspace and nailed to an egg for christmas. it’ll end in tears. I can only support one bucket at a time and I’ll drop my bag of spanners if we start talking about personal services. blimey o’reilly.

Things what I writ