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Wow. I finally lived up to my name.
The past few days have been odd. Well only yesterday actually, because I've only been here a few days, here being London, where strange things happen.
I came here on a train, a train filled with yuppies who sneered about golf and engaged in pointless machismo competitions; indeed I half expected one of them to sneer "Phil Colllllinnsss.. works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist..." (kudos if you spot the reference)... I read Bukowski. Infantile plebs gave me abuse for reading, worryingly they were older than me. Still, anyone who gives you abuse when reading, especially reading Bukowski, probably has a brain cell on the verge of dying of loneliness. The train was hell, so I wrote a story in my head, which I'll type up sometime.
In London I met Alicia. We fell in love. It wasn't instaneous, and neither of us expected it, but it happened. We started off by getting lost in London, but after a couple of hours of wandering aimlessly we found my aunt's house in Islington. We started off watching a film, being too tired to do anything else, and my shoulder was sore because my suitcase had broken and I ended up having my back massaged. And if you've never watched a film while having your back massaged, it's fantastic. Of course it would have been ungentlemanly not to return the favour, so I did. And hands are prone to wander, which they did. And one thing led to another, as they do. And I spent four glorious hours on a sofa.
Then later I went to see Tenacious D with my sister (because Alicia couldn't go). Tenacious D were crap. Dick, cum and fart jokes galore, and some idiots who were moshing, to two guys playing acoustic guitars. Rock on. However, I was up on the balcony (at the astoria) and trying to fit six rows of people into a width of about 2 metres is very difficult, meaning that those who have not had mucha agua to drink are prone to faint. As my sister did. Praise our goddam litigation culture though, as some scared-as-hell security guys came over and lifted her into the VIP area, and I had to go to. We were taken to the VIP stairwell, where we met Dave "nirvana/Queens/Foos" funkin' Grohl, who stopped and had a chat. He's surprisingly normal, but then they all are; we all are. Even though I just did, you shouldn't put people up on a pedestal because we're all the same really. But Dave Grohl! :-)
London rocks at times.
I'm happy as hell.
See you all soon :-)
The past few days have been odd. Well only yesterday actually, because I've only been here a few days, here being London, where strange things happen.
I came here on a train, a train filled with yuppies who sneered about golf and engaged in pointless machismo competitions; indeed I half expected one of them to sneer "Phil Colllllinnsss.. works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist..." (kudos if you spot the reference)... I read Bukowski. Infantile plebs gave me abuse for reading, worryingly they were older than me. Still, anyone who gives you abuse when reading, especially reading Bukowski, probably has a brain cell on the verge of dying of loneliness. The train was hell, so I wrote a story in my head, which I'll type up sometime.
In London I met Alicia. We fell in love. It wasn't instaneous, and neither of us expected it, but it happened. We started off by getting lost in London, but after a couple of hours of wandering aimlessly we found my aunt's house in Islington. We started off watching a film, being too tired to do anything else, and my shoulder was sore because my suitcase had broken and I ended up having my back massaged. And if you've never watched a film while having your back massaged, it's fantastic. Of course it would have been ungentlemanly not to return the favour, so I did. And hands are prone to wander, which they did. And one thing led to another, as they do. And I spent four glorious hours on a sofa.
Then later I went to see Tenacious D with my sister (because Alicia couldn't go). Tenacious D were crap. Dick, cum and fart jokes galore, and some idiots who were moshing, to two guys playing acoustic guitars. Rock on. However, I was up on the balcony (at the astoria) and trying to fit six rows of people into a width of about 2 metres is very difficult, meaning that those who have not had mucha agua to drink are prone to faint. As my sister did. Praise our goddam litigation culture though, as some scared-as-hell security guys came over and lifted her into the VIP area, and I had to go to. We were taken to the VIP stairwell, where we met Dave "nirvana/Queens/Foos" funkin' Grohl, who stopped and had a chat. He's surprisingly normal, but then they all are; we all are. Even though I just did, you shouldn't put people up on a pedestal because we're all the same really. But Dave Grohl! :-)
London rocks at times.
I'm happy as hell.
See you all soon :-)
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Well done sir, sounds like you are the top of your tree and I salute that.
I too had a fantastic weekend, and will continue to do so. Although in a somewhat less "fell in love" manner.
I shall explain with a mind to the lower-age posters reading.
Met a lass on Friday night after a week of emailing each other with flirty, sarcastic tones. I suggest we meet for a drink Friday afternoon, turns out the only real time she can do is Friday night.
So we do.
I drive into East London on the understanding that I can kip on her sofa if we get on and I drink.
We do and I did.
A late-night bar with loud music (AC/DC, Tribe Called Quest, Iggy Pop) that forced the whole "I must lean in to talk,oh sorry did I just touch you? My bad".
Bar chucks out, we go back to hers protected against the cold by beer and vodka.
We end up in her room listening to cool dance music and she plays a track that I had never heard containing Bill Hicks samples through it "Not all drugs are good...some of them are great" etc.
After a while, gets in bed and says "Get your shoes off if you're sleeping in here"
I do.
(edited for reasons of taste and younger audience viewers)
----
And I am now back at home, still feeling "gentle" from copious alcohol adventures but with a smile the size of Russia.
And I'm going out tomorrow to repeat with someone else.
A bisexual someone else.
So we're both happy, happy people.
ps - "I began to panic when I realised that his card was nicer than mine. Where had he developed this sudden surge of taste from? It was guilt-edged and hard coated vinyl. This had cost him."
I too had a fantastic weekend, and will continue to do so. Although in a somewhat less "fell in love" manner.
I shall explain with a mind to the lower-age posters reading.
Met a lass on Friday night after a week of emailing each other with flirty, sarcastic tones. I suggest we meet for a drink Friday afternoon, turns out the only real time she can do is Friday night.
So we do.
I drive into East London on the understanding that I can kip on her sofa if we get on and I drink.
We do and I did.
A late-night bar with loud music (AC/DC, Tribe Called Quest, Iggy Pop) that forced the whole "I must lean in to talk,oh sorry did I just touch you? My bad".
Bar chucks out, we go back to hers protected against the cold by beer and vodka.
We end up in her room listening to cool dance music and she plays a track that I had never heard containing Bill Hicks samples through it "Not all drugs are good...some of them are great" etc.
After a while, gets in bed and says "Get your shoes off if you're sleeping in here"
I do.
(edited for reasons of taste and younger audience viewers)
----
And I am now back at home, still feeling "gentle" from copious alcohol adventures but with a smile the size of Russia.
And I'm going out tomorrow to repeat with someone else.
A bisexual someone else.
So we're both happy, happy people.
ps - "I began to panic when I realised that his card was nicer than mine. Where had he developed this sudden surge of taste from? It was guilt-edged and hard coated vinyl. This had cost him."
Wow. I finally lived up to my name.
The past few days have been odd. Well only yesterday actually, because I've only been here a few days, here being London, where strange things happen.
I came here on a train, a train filled with yuppies who sneered about golf and engaged in pointless machismo competitions; indeed I half expected one of them to sneer "Phil Colllllinnsss.. works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist..." (kudos if you spot the reference)... I read Bukowski. Infantile plebs gave me abuse for reading, worryingly they were older than me. Still, anyone who gives you abuse when reading, especially reading Bukowski, probably has a brain cell on the verge of dying of loneliness. The train was hell, so I wrote a story in my head, which I'll type up sometime.
In London I met Alicia. We fell in love. It wasn't instaneous, and neither of us expected it, but it happened. We started off by getting lost in London, but after a couple of hours of wandering aimlessly we found my aunt's house in Islington. We started off watching a film, being too tired to do anything else, and my shoulder was sore because my suitcase had broken and I ended up having my back massaged. And if you've never watched a film while having your back massaged, it's fantastic. Of course it would have been ungentlemanly not to return the favour, so I did. And hands are prone to wander, which they did. And one thing led to another, as they do. And I spent four glorious hours on a sofa.
Then later I went to see Tenacious D with my sister (because Alicia couldn't go). Tenacious D were crap. Dick, cum and fart jokes galore, and some idiots who were moshing, to two guys playing acoustic guitars. Rock on. However, I was up on the balcony (at the astoria) and trying to fit six rows of people into a width of about 2 metres is very difficult, meaning that those who have not had mucha agua to drink are prone to faint. As my sister did. Praise our goddam litigation culture though, as some scared-as-hell security guys came over and lifted her into the VIP area, and I had to go to. We were taken to the VIP stairwell, where we met Dave "nirvana/Queens/Foos" funkin' Grohl, who stopped and had a chat. He's surprisingly normal, but then they all are; we all are. Even though I just did, you shouldn't put people up on a pedestal because we're all the same really. But Dave Grohl! :-)
London rocks at times.
I'm happy as hell.
See you all soon :-)
The past few days have been odd. Well only yesterday actually, because I've only been here a few days, here being London, where strange things happen.
I came here on a train, a train filled with yuppies who sneered about golf and engaged in pointless machismo competitions; indeed I half expected one of them to sneer "Phil Colllllinnsss.. works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist..." (kudos if you spot the reference)... I read Bukowski. Infantile plebs gave me abuse for reading, worryingly they were older than me. Still, anyone who gives you abuse when reading, especially reading Bukowski, probably has a brain cell on the verge of dying of loneliness. The train was hell, so I wrote a story in my head, which I'll type up sometime.
In London I met Alicia. We fell in love. It wasn't instaneous, and neither of us expected it, but it happened. We started off by getting lost in London, but after a couple of hours of wandering aimlessly we found my aunt's house in Islington. We started off watching a film, being too tired to do anything else, and my shoulder was sore because my suitcase had broken and I ended up having my back massaged. And if you've never watched a film while having your back massaged, it's fantastic. Of course it would have been ungentlemanly not to return the favour, so I did. And hands are prone to wander, which they did. And one thing led to another, as they do. And I spent four glorious hours on a sofa.
Then later I went to see Tenacious D with my sister (because Alicia couldn't go). Tenacious D were crap. Dick, cum and fart jokes galore, and some idiots who were moshing, to two guys playing acoustic guitars. Rock on. However, I was up on the balcony (at the astoria) and trying to fit six rows of people into a width of about 2 metres is very difficult, meaning that those who have not had mucha agua to drink are prone to faint. As my sister did. Praise our goddam litigation culture though, as some scared-as-hell security guys came over and lifted her into the VIP area, and I had to go to. We were taken to the VIP stairwell, where we met Dave "nirvana/Queens/Foos" funkin' Grohl, who stopped and had a chat. He's surprisingly normal, but then they all are; we all are. Even though I just did, you shouldn't put people up on a pedestal because we're all the same really. But Dave Grohl! :-)
London rocks at times.
I'm happy as hell.
See you all soon :-)
Page: