my brain is devoid of interesting things to 1-think about, 2, also has no desire to evoke the interest of the locals here, who, unfortunately have been ‘dumped’ by their families for the arrival of the inevitablr beckoning finger of Death, MY NEXT APPEALING, RIVETTING, ATTENTION ‘GOOD READ’ called waiting to die!
Any how, mad Pat A Scottish widow sends me such crap I thoUght I ought let you and Hoby have a read to see the educated bollocks the AGED, use to communicate. Thank you for your Text from your mates place in a France.’ HOW’S THE LOVE LIFE? never PUT UP WITH SCOND BEST KID. aDVICE FROM AN AGED LOSER. Speaking of which yer ma shot through to Devonport for school hols. No texts etc so I can ‘t tell how she’s going? Mind you it’s been pissing with rain!!!! Hard ordure if you can’t take a joke,
hOW’S ME TWO FRIENDS The last of a lifetime of misadventure, etc,etc. Cheers BEFORE SOMEBODY POKES ME IN THE BACK—IF their game luv yer DadXXXXXX
There is a stirring in the meercat nest today. Not all the cats woke up happy.
I didn’t sleep so well last night. The bed broke. And the person I was sleeping with leapt out of bed in the middle of the night and cried “THE SHIRTS” with real panic, touched all the washing hanging on the clothes horse, and climbed gently back into bed. He had no recollection of it in the morning.
So lets rewind a few weeks to my blog when all I had to write about was my terrible online dating progress. How things change. Now I have stories about walking around ASDA in High Wycombe telling New Boyf that I am going to make a Piñata in the shape of his head for his next birthday and how all his friends will love me because they will be able to bash his head with a stick and it will be full of so many sweets cause I could fit so many in there. I really laughed. He didn’t really. Now before my dear friends say “WITCHY!!” may I just point out the irony of that situation is HE ACTUALLY SAID HE WAS GOING TO MAKE A PINATA OF MY HEAD FIRST.
In a wind up of the online dating experience, I have either found someone great OR this is going to end up being the biggest wind up shit storm of all. If there can be anything worse than taking 20 magic mushrooms with a fully clothed guy but with his dick out that Philippa works with at an office party of hers while soldering new Lady Gaga outfits with LED lights getting fingered by a trademark lawyer who works at Shell. Or not. I dont think this will end up bad. I worry that it is all too much of a good thing and the universe will explode everything in my face like a giant abscess filled with the equivalent of 4 litres of melted butteresque pusy matter. But then who knows maybe not. I am never very good with change. But I try my best.
I just know I have a little cat at home who is waiting for me and I am going to bring her a little meercat doll I saw at the shop that she will love I am sure and then I am going to set up a livestream that I can log into any time and check out what the little cat is up to.
I’m a horder. In the last two weekends, I have put out into the trash no less than 5 large garbage bags full of crap that has been stuffing up my house. The majority of it is non-recyclable clothing – pyjamas I had worn to the last unth because flannelette after 100 washes is so soft, shit I had made to wear out to raves in the Rephresh / Rephlex days at Heaven [1996!], odd gloves, vintage things I had bought as rags in the first place and now after getting worn and pinned together for long enough and not able to be turned into a patchwork quilt. Pepper that lot with jars of spice I think I was born with, bags with no handles and the most useful of all – presents from the ex husbands parents.
What is also so disturbing is the large cardboard box of stuff that I just can’t bring myself to part with just yet because it is either a] recyclable or b] historic value or c] or personal priceless value. I ask you though – how many Silas cyclepath jackets are normal? How many Helmut Lang vests did one girl ever need? Can we add to that X-girl & Milk Fed t-shirts, hand made a-line skirts… Clothes I had bought from TOPSHOP or H&M before I stopped… Actually it is too embarrassing to go on. BECAUSE WHAT IS LEFT IS STILL AN ABSOLUTE MOUNTAIN OF CLOTHES CRAMMED ONTO MY SIX FOOT RAIL AND FOUR SIX FOOT SHELVES.
I cannot be described in any way as a minimalist. And there I was going on about how happy I was after visiting my favourite second hand clothes shop and buying more. No wonder I don’t have a boyfriend, there isn’t physically any room for one in this house with all the china, vintage clothes, baking tins and African barbershop signs.
And of course there is the question of Hobart. At 2.20am last night this is how a certain little someone could be found IN my bed, ON HER SIDE of my bed. Today, she has been loving all the activity. A little annoyed that her secret hiding space behind the laundry basket was pulled out, Hobart has had a great time disembowelling skirts that she liked the smell of [my boss has given me the greatest English Eccentrics skirt from under her bed!] and then grabbing the dustiest things she obviously though had greater value than I did and ferreting them off in the deepest corners under my bed. So helpful!
I am dreading cracking open the cupboard in the hallway. That is where the deepest sins lie. Plastic bowl caked full of plaster anyone? So before that, I am going to watch my buddy Jess Dickenson’s movie “Where the Dust Settles” I will report back later.
To preface this post with a picture of fake shit is a little bit negative to say the least. But what I would like to illustrate is: to find good shit you have to wade through a lot of bad. As you will agree, some of the shits above are better than others – in infact you could end up with a bag of marbles.
The most recent date was wonderful. When his face smiled, so did his eyes. So mine did too. And we recognised it in one another and it was the thing that was missing in the first two dates.
The date tonight nearly lost his chance when I received an email saying “I’m hung over can we change the date?” and I said “That is really poor form”. It received an instant apology and a pledge that he would be there at the appointed time.
What he secretly doesn’t know is that I am feeling a little shallow of mind [and a bit like the subject of the picture above] after too many beers at an exhibition at the Timothy Taylor exhibition of Sean Scully paintings last night and noodles on Kingly Street with my buddies. One thing you might like to know about Timothy Taylor is that he isn’t a bad looking man, tight as arseholes, and glasses that are nice but just don’t quite suit his face. They are statement frames and just too big. The day I am introduced to him I will let him know.
Finally, I called Mrs Kipling this morning just to tell her I love her. She and I had such a laugh at the statment made in The Guardian relating to the fact that the lastest serial killer caught has a profile on their dating site and warning and apologies ensued.
DO YOU KNOW THAT SONG? If yes, please sing it along to yourself while reading the below. If not, please start the youtube video below and read on.
Why should you get to know durs?
Would like to meet someone who is not totally crazy. A bit crazy is fine lol u tryed the rest and now u come 2 the best :-)
He describes his ideal match thus:
ur on on the right profile at the right time :-) i want a loyal, honest person who is willing 2 share everything with me, lets give a try if u think im the 1 for u hun xxx
Every day there comes a moment where you find yourself in a very deep spiritual moment with your pet. I hear it all the time from fellow pet owners. Obviously, even in the olden days they did it – these two are so close I’m not even sure where the dog tail ends and the scarf begins. It is a love that is of course not normal even though we all do it. So intense. And not at all embarrassing…!!!
My flight to Hong Kong / Melbourne / Hobart [the city] has been delayed because of volcanic intervention. I can’t say I am not a little bit glad because I get to spend a little extra time with Hobart [the cat] in the lovely London sunshine. Shortly I am going to make some macaroons. I asked Hobart if I should make a cake and she gave a kind of small weak miaou. Then I asked “macarons?” and she went crazy. It is great to have a live in Spiritual Advisor. Then Dora the Ignorer comes once a week and we talk about other stuff like immigration, stupid people and money. This week I got to see pictures of her Mum Abena and her 5 children. I have to tell you all, TALK ABOUT BABESVILLE.
Anyway to get formalities out of the way – sorry Beniah Brawn – I don’t know why I can’t post directly to this blog from Flickr cause I could before and I can on the Lektrotour Food blog. I hope I cover all necessary post backs for you here.
Another nice mail I got the other week. Sometimes I feel like shit and giving up. So whoever you are – thanks for letting me know you get something out of what I do. It makes me feel great.
i was linked to your blog months ago and have been reading it daily ever since.
reading this blog has literally talked me down from the ledge and seen me through the darkest and most crippling hrs of my recent break up.
thankyou you so much for being so goddamn talented creative hilarious cool witty and styling.
i dont know how i could have gotten through the last few months without it.
In other news last night I went to The Alibi for Deano’s birthday. The whole place smelled like DIY and sawdust which I love very much. And also there was a strong smell of coriander. Stood at the bar drinking all night as I couldn’t quite bring myself to dance to EMF. I met them once. I don’t know who was more of their head – them or me.
“I don’t know what it is thing between us or what it will be but I really love hanging out with you. You are one cool cat and I really don’t want to stop.”
I certainly didn’t think it was going to turn into being cut dead and ignored while curled up onto the sofa together.
But whoever you are searching for me as longingly as I search for you, when you find me, please forgive me for every nipple I have shown, every asshole I have photographed, every dick I sucked and sniggered about it afterwards with my friends on the Internet. I can’t imagine that I will stop any time in the near or far future. But if you don’t want me to mention you I will do my best to keep a promise that I won’t.