I wish I was a Yuri G

alright then... only just discovered my previous blog entry

i must say that, for someone who had had great difficulty negotiating his way through an unneccesarily complicated door, my spelling was suprisingly decent

so yeah, apparently i bought some chips on the way home. watched an episode of black books, read some poetry online and posted a blog last night all without any recollection of it in the morning save for a bleak feeling that everything in life is innately wrong (allow me, if i may, to digress right here onto a subject dear to my heart; beer. last night i was drinking stella cos i wasn't buying the drinks and we were in one of those bars that simply sells a lot of alcopops and imported lagers; easy choices for those people drawn towards bright primary colours in simple geometric shapes and soft fabrics. i know i'm a beer facist but most lager is pretty poor - i'll drink it but it always makes me feel fucking awful in the morning - no fault but my own)

this illustrates perfectly the problems with heading for drinks straight after work without eating anything - fun? hell yes - make you feel like you've taken half of saturday out to the back yard and shot it? unfortunately so. the problem is compounded when the drinks are free (last two fridays in a row) and leads to waking up with the hollow sensation that important pieces of you has been lost forever.

heh - you can tell i've been having some killer hangovers recently

oh and we were absolutely fucking mauled in the rugby today - a good thing that i didn't take one of my irish workmates up on his £50 bet

In his blue velour and silk you liberated a boy I never rated and now he's throwing discus for Liverpool and Widnes

A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,

So mastered by the brute blood of the air
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?

oh me oh my

another Friday night - the rain not only beating upon my window in a poetic way but has just been beating against my head in a slightly more prosaic albeit just as sexual manner.

ho hum was gonna write something pertinent here regarding the poor attitude towards longentivity in todays society and the lack of consideration of recycling sorta thing - however beer, and the tolerance of the aforementioned leiasure drink have got the better of me, for today at least

however as most of this diatribe stems from my dislike of upgrading my phone (samsung - very old, about 4 and a half years if you care that much) to a newer, stronger, fitter, happier, more productive version.

i mean i get that you gotta move with the times but my phone can make calls and text adequately - i mean where's tehe premium in upgrading nowadays - especially where, for those of an artistic bent, it'll be massive congestion costs and what nto

completely forgotton my original point in my making this post - just tired and drunk

live like a fox in the snow - on a dirigible above Lapland

al - hand over the window, not gonna get in a muddle

the older that we get we know that nothing else for us is possible

I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:

How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening Church appals,
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.

But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born Infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.


i kinda know how he feels - but still, you gotta look on the sunny side, we've got the olympics here in 5 years, woo!

heh but am feeling suprisingly chipper and upbeat this valentines, despite being the first one spent single for years (6, maybe 7...?). possibly it's the cash that i haven't spent or maybe it's the dissociation i've felt with the whole relationship thing recently but it's kinda ok - i really expected to feel sorta wrecked at this point. Instead i feel alright i think. Which is really kinda nice.

Aargh - just remembered that i don't get a summer holiday this year - shit

and there was a booming above you

London suits the rain. Hunkered down on it's haunches - resting quietly in the muck. No longer having to dress up for the good weather. The shirts and flip flops were shelved long ago, even the cashmere scarves and herringbone tweed jackets are back in the cupboard, now it just wears a comfortable old anorak and squats massively under the downfall.

Don't get me wrong, the city is a beautiful place and I don't particularly glory in the gloom, it's just that there's a certain woeful mystery that settles down when the air is misty and the streetlights gleam between the droplets.

A face half reflected on the streaming window, schismed consciousness as you stare at, and through, yourself. This is not the time to search for meaning in the gaze of strangers. The weather brings on a dreary introspection. Better to just let the flicker of reflections wash over you and feel the brooding rock and tar that is London, dolefully tasting it's own memories, as you pass through it in the rain.

breathing new life into the sad witch

i now have a computer - woo and woo again

secondly - i had the piss taken this weekend because i keep my bread in the freezer. is that really all too wierd to handle?

it's hard to tell sometimes if what you're doing is out of the norm - i mean it makes sense right - there's only ole' me eating the bread and it always goes moldy otherwise. plus, and this is the kicker, you can make your sandwiches in the morning with frozen bread and the temperature keeps it nice and fresh until it's defrosted, right around lunchtime. Devestating.

anyway this stuff is important and the internet is exactly the right place to keep it