Monday, April 05, 2010


Monday 5 April 2010

Things feel almost back to normal now as I awaken at 6.55AM into a grey day and unnecessary early start.

I have to admit I feel slightly depressed.

On GMTV this morning they are talking about the impending election next month and to modernize their coverage they begin discussing the influence of “social media” when they wheel out their expert he looks exactly like a John Oliver character.

From here I hit my PC and begin writing from my bed as I pull together entries to put up online.  This is a truly arduous job as my PC is running horribly sluggish this morning and it takes forever just to insert a hyperlink.  Putting entries up online does not feel as rewarding as I hoped it would.  Thankfully reading back the entries though I find myself pleasantly surprised by the standard, which in the process gives my efforts something of a point and purpose.

In the background I begin the day by listening to Nine Inch Nails and their set at Woodstock 94.  Otherwise there truly is not much else in the way of music I want to listen to today.

I break from Trent Reznor to catch the episode of Frasier on Channel Four.  It’s the episode where Bulldog sleeps with Roz.  Good work fella.

Easter egg for breakfast is on the menu this morning.  This only happens once a year.

It is almost 10AM by the time I finish preparing entries to put up online.  This really is time consuming and needs to be done on a decent PC if it is to prove efficient.

Eventually I murmur out of bed and get dressed.  Looking around the flat today it is carnage, this place needs serious work.  Instead however I hit my writing desk and choose to churn out this shit.

Unlike Friday (Good Friday) today actually feels like Easter due, if nothing else, to Channel Four bothering to be festive and showing The Greatest Story Ever Told.  Last year at this time I got suckered into this stuff but not this time.

As I stagger around my home looking elsewhere for entertainment I discover that my piece of shit Goodmans Freeview box has stopped working again.  It is only a matter of days before I toss this against the wall or out of the window.

Apart from taking a break to watch the first episode of the new season of South Park (complete with Tiger Woods video game) and some Wilfred today I rack up a solid session of writing, accomplishing around the region of what I was hoping from Friday (and the entire weekend).  I wonder if my efforts are worth it.

Nina sends me a text message to see if I am going to the Robots In Disguise gig at the Colchester Arts Centre tonight but for £9 that really does not equate to value for money.  I do however want to go because Big In Albania is making a rare appearance in support but I’ll be fucked if I’m paying that much money for something so throwaway.  I tell her this in so many words.

Eventually I head over to the olds for the 3PM dinner with their old neighbours.  As I leave Bohemian Grove the junker is STILL parked in my space.  By now this is really past a joke.  I wonder who it is?

In the end I just about get to Balkerne Heights on time.  As I step through the door everyone has already arrived but despite this dinner is being delayed due to others not paying much mind to the stipulated dinner hour.  Do I sound grumpy about this?  I guess so considering this now means there was no need for me to rush over after all.

For a while we hang out until they take the dog for a walk.  I don’t join them, I don’t value fresh or walking the dog quite as much as those guys.  Go figure.  Feeling slightly despondent by my weekend I linger at the flat instead.

At this point I remember that Millwall playing at Colchester kicked off at lunchtime and by now the game will have finished.  ‘Wall have won 2-1.  Unfortunately every fucker around them in the division (Leeds and Swindon) are also winning which naturally serves to stunt our progress.

Bored I head into town in search of people and/or retail therapy.  In Waterstones I buy a World Cup guide.  It’s only a matter of weeks now.

As I get back to my parents the others are just returning from their walk.  Eventually we kick into dinner and it’s a really nice meal, very basic and English for our foreign friends.  I feel lazy to be served on and also the poor relation (son) in comparison to our guests.

The South African begins pottering with the old man’s computer, trying to speed up the download speed in order to get Inglourious Basterds and Sherlock Holmes download before they leave.

While I potter around the place Doug texts to ask if I am going to the Robots In Disguise gig tonight.  To my discredit I don’t even bother responding.

Eventually more neighbours turn up at my parents’ place and it all begins to get noisy.  These people aren’t much fun, I would rather watch TV than listen to them.  In a way I sense the South African feels the same as we briefly get into a strange conversation about an apparent drug den on Denmark Street followed by recollections of an experience on Mephedrone.

As things begin to get late the others leave and I soon follow, heading back to Bohemian Grove to see out what remains of my Easter.  When I get home unsurprisingly the junker is still parked in my place but by now that shit heap’s presence was more than expected.

Once home I briefly attempt to write before heading to bed just as Caddyshack arrives on ITV.  TV perfection.

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