I was listening to some Serge Gainsbourg, when there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and in strode a tall, athletic woman, long thick curly brunette hair. She wore a coat that reached her mid-thighs, and bottes cuirs. She smiled, perfect teeth set in her face of beautifully tanned perfect skin, and led me back to the sofa. She pushed me onto it, then
Fuck, wrong place. Hi there, apologies if you've been here hoping for something vaguely new, but I haven't written for ages 'cause I was away, and then I've been really busy. Actually, truth told, I've had a major bout of apathy, really dreadful, so each evening I come home with stuff to say, then realise it's utter crud and don't bother to write it up, and sit here in a pool of self-derision and despising. Which is why I've been to see Socrates today, and very productive it was too. Amongst other things we discussed my continuing issues with the LPS, and he suggested I'm not taking enough!!
I did go away, that much is true, to Yorkshire for a couple of days, to see T and R. Amongst other things I got taken out on a blind date, which was nice but no spark, damn, we went to Fountains Abbey, beautiful, funny to see the stags in the park eyeing one another up for a punch-up and hustling their harems around. Then we ate some venison sausages.
T and I went for a really long walk, taking in a place called Dogloitch Wood. What is a dogloitch. Or a dog's loitch. Or perhaps one loitches a dog. And why at that particular wood? A lovely walk, some great views across the landscape including Ferrybridge powerstation, and in another wood someone had decorated the trees for Hallowe'en, with bats and pumpkins and ghosties and ghoulies hanging from the trees, and two giant serpents with luminescent eyes and fangs. It was going to be well spooky up there that evening. But we didn't care, 'cause we had another engagement.
We went to see this bunch.
Now, Leeds Irish Centre is not a big venue, so the lights were not shown to their best effect, but the gig was ok. Not mega, but then I always get a score draw at least, so I'm not beefing. And there were a couple of real treats; as one of the crowd pointed out when they played 'Infinity', "About fucking time."
I realise this means absolutely fuck all to most people, but hey, let me have my little indulgences, 'cause I need 'em.
And on the subject of little indulgences, some of my esteemed colleagues today spent the better part of two hours discussing the various ailments of their blessed offspring, and generously shared with all and sundry the details of their various snot, poo, sick and rashes. Delightful. I wouldn't mind, but one of the silly moos recently had the nerve to make a complaint about me along the lines that I was difficult to be around and could I be moved as she didn't like having to sit at a desk next to me. Apparently she didn't like the nature of my conversation, or my tendency to hum along to the iPol - which I've also been barred from using as the desire to block out the drivel of the infuriating menopausal cow and her cohorts is apparently making me antisocial - so she had a great whinge about me to various people. Now let me get this straight, I don't find the subject of her children utterly riveting, so I must be antisocial. If I follow Socrates's advice and make more effort with the social niceties, then I will go to the office tomorrow and joyously regale them all with a detailed description of the Mandelbrot patterns last nights beef kung-po and special fried rice left all over the bog this morning. No?
Jesus, I feel so horny.
Did I mention the tragic news about Sparkly Eyes? She 'phoned last week to tell me that she's got engaged.
I'll try and make the effort to get something together worth saying over the weekend, I know I've got more to say, but I'm tired, it's late and I actually think I'll get a proper nights kip tonight for the first time in a week, so I'm going to try and get it. It's the only thing I'm getting right now.