Saturday, September 12, 2009

Saturday 12 September 2009


This morning I wake up with a headache, an Alli induced headache. Forget the trots as the side affect attached to this evil magic bean product, it is the morning after migraine that comes with taking the pill at night. Is drying my mouth part of the process of assisting me shit away the weight. Looking at the photos of me meeting Nick Cave on Wednesday it is physically working. Joking aside, I have never been larger. Is another one of the side affects of Alli actually gaining weight in addition to shitting away your intestines and losing your Liver? These little blue pills are evil, maybe I am actually popping Viagra. It remains the only real chemical way to lose weight is Heroin.

I’m awake just after 7AM after experiencing strange work related dreams. At one point I actually find myself in conversation explaining some figures and having to justify my taking time off this week (“holiday allowance”). Also in the dream I am hanging out with my old Gringo Records crew at a gig and then a house party and then driving to middle of nowhere for more yuks, experiencing a car breaking down in the process and my friends pulling away from me in the distance leaving me behind. Metaphor?

Around 8AM I flip on the BBC news and the main story once more is the potential transatlantic Muslim suicide bombers. Again they describe them as “British” which I truly find offensive, please please stop inciting normal people by making such inciting statements. Looking at the three men they really do not look capable of creating the damage and havoc of killing XXX people? They look like Clouseau-esqe buffoons only able to cause mild panic and when they record their little angry videos they look like WWF wrestlers from the eighties and nineties blowing a lot of hot air, puffing themselves up in their one man army status. These people are why Guantanamo isn’t considered quite the bad idea people make it out to be, incredibly flawed as it is. So here comes a third trial, another super expensive affair for the taxpayers meaning that our roads and towns will be looking shoddy for yet another year.

In response this however the BBC also runs a couple of stories (mainly born of comments from John Denham) about protests and mini riots held outside a couple of Mosques in the country which serves to balance things out in a weird and strange manner as the juxtaposition seems intended to pat out any major ill feelings to the potential air bombers and their Muslim status/identity/reality. The BBC is blowing up some weird fringe movement called the English Defense League and comparing them to Oswald Mosley but looking at the protests our apparent current equivalent are wearing England football shirts and not an organised black shirt uniform – this is just an angry mob and not a potential political party. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the apparent bias.

Soon I am into routine mode and hitting Asda for my weekly shop with view to being home in time for the beginning of the Danny Baker radio show. Again my heart isn’t in it this week, this is too early to be hitting the shops and I do it half asleep, sleepwalking through the aisles and losing my patience with it. There are no treats attached today, just the purchase of quick and cheap new clothing to facilitate my current new record girth. This is a worrying trend.

As I walk through the aisles it is to the soundtrack of the new Polvo record “In Prism” and it is really good, so good in fact that it prompts me to text message Racton in California to gleefully inform him of their addition to the Ten Year Anniversary ATP at Christmas. On paper this ATP is measuring up to be the greatest event in history. Its doomed to fail.

To help the girth I opt out of bread and Carb heavy foods today, instead I seem to think that bananas are the answer as I make a rare excursion into the green section of the store. This section is so foreign and alien to me. Everyone in it looks so weak and confused putting their own groceries in bags and looking weak and frail with it. I get out of their as soon as possible, barely checking my bananas for the inevitable bruises.

I scoot through the remainder of the store, doing my weekly avoision of both The Crab and the guy at school in my year that everyone picked on.

Soon I am home and just in time for this week’s Danny Baker show. As it plays out in the background I tear into writing and manage to actually accomplish some stuff.

This morning Treasure Island on TV, the Disney version from 1950 starring Bobby Driscoll. I remember hiring this movie out as a video during the week when I was younger. Hiring videos in the middle of the week truly was a rare treat and pleasure. Treasure Island was one of those movies I started watching at night but didn’t finish before my bedtime so I had to go to bed with it half viewed and see the remainder in the morning.

Today Obama uses the word “protectionism” – is that really a real word?

In the afternoon I head over to the olds’ place at Balkerne Heights where I shroom and vegetate on cue.

Millwall play at Gillingham today and lose 2-0. There is nothing more to be said about that.

After snagging some dinner and pottering on the internet and Sky TV soon the advent of X-Factor looms and I feel the need to head home for the sake of my own sanity.

Otherwise life doesn’t really happen today. This evening Channel Four shows the final ever episode of ER before TV mutates into a documentary about The Last Nazis before it all ends with Sin City playing out as I fall asleep.

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