It’s been a hectic few weeks, hence the lack of postings lately.
The weekend before last I met my bro in Angel after a long journey from Chichester, where I’d spent a superb weekend working (details available next week on request, they’re not for here). I was damp from a drenching earlier in the afternoon, knackered out from all the walking I’d undertaken but still keen to see off the weekend with a self-congratulatory pint. After a couple of beers and a tiny plate of smoked salmon and ‘leaves’ (six fucking quid) I lazily made my way home and, most unlike me these days, took a hot bath to reset myself.
Monday and Tuesday were manic. In addition to the work resulting from the weekend excursion, I also had to see to my more regular blathering. It was intense, hard work, but also very rewarding. It feels good to get paid for writing stuff and due to positive feedback and more readers than I expected (about 5000 an hour) more is in the pipeline, not enough to give up the office-stuff just yet I hasten to add, but it’s all coming on nicely.
It also helped fill the gap left by IC’s trip to Italy, the same trip that I was forced to spurn in favour of the weekend job. By the time she returned Tuesday evening I was ahead of the game, dinner in the oven, flat cleaner than a surgeons digit and just plain happy to have her home in one piece.
The following day I went to the office (on the Triumph, which is now running again. The breakdown, dad discovered, was due to a wire that had fallen off the kill-switch A single bloody wire caused all that hassle.) She’s still pissing out oil but the quantity isn’t too worrying and she’s running beautifully, so for the time being I’m happy…
I didn’t stay there long, just enough time to get a few things done then back on the Triumph home. I can’t begin to tell you what a difference it makes, it’s not just the having-to-face-public-transport gig –a protracted, uncomfortable and expensive affair- it’s the sheer joy of riding her again.
On Saturday IC and I took the train to my sisters gaff in Surrey, we were supposed to meet my bro en route but he’d had a bit of a significant Friday evening and spent most of Saturday morning throwing up his toenails.
My youngest niece is two so we were there to do the whole cake/toys thing. The afternoon rolled-on cheerfully, IC, my parents, sister and bro-in-law, dividing our time between the garden and lounge depending on where the shrieking kids were playing. At six my parents took the kids off to spend the night with them leaving us four, then five when my pasty faced sibling suddenly made an appearance, for some wine and eventually, Chinese food from the local takeaway.
I wasn’t sure about this stuff, it was okay but not a patch on Vietnamese food to which I’d become accustomed. In places it was delicious then it got overly greasy and sweet when it needn’t have. Mind you, I stuffed myself full, we inadvertently ordered piles of it and I’m sure there was enough left over to keep my sis and family full for the rest of the week.
After arriving home, which took a bloody age, IC and I were about to call it a day when we stumbled upon Straw Dogs on the tellybox. After a load of warnings from some doom-laden voiceover before it began, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that, while slightly flawed, it was so gripping I’d gladly allow myself to be repeatedly hit over the head with a shovel in order to forget it so that I may enjoy it over. Depressingly I’ve been informed it’s to be re-made.
Sunday was a day of rest, a spot of time in the pub, some comfort food, a few Come Dine with Me’s before a film, then bed in good time for bloody Monday.
I had a drizzling ride into work but I wasn’t fussed, I was more bothered by what a shocking waste of time it was when I got there, nice ride home though and on the way I was inspired enough to make dinner for IC and I in the evening.
Tuesday was the first day of this weird post-summer weather that we’re bathing in now. Everyone seems to be in a state of shock over it… Come on! It’s still September, it’s not an Indian Summer by any stretch of the imagination, for a start that so-called phenomena only occurs following the first frost and secondly ‘Indian Summer’ is an American term. The European term, and therefore the correct one, is ‘St. Martin’s Day Summer.’ Either way, we’re not having either of them and it’s too hot.
In the evening IC and I went out for dinner at a favourite near-by eatery in order to celebrate a calendar event. I had the pork belly, IC the haddock; both were excellent, the small potions belying their sufficiency. The walk back to the flat was undertaken in bloated satisfaction.
I chose to go to the office on Wednesday; it was a bit too hot for the Triumph who let me know her feelings by running lumpily and offing a more than generous portion of oil to the concrete when we stopped. Still, better than the pissy tube and accompanying trains.
I saw my bro in the evening at the local, we sat outside in the dark with our pints discussing his job and the characters he works with, one of whom is the son of an eminent film director. Apparently this chap is pleasant enough but he’s inclined to fart deadly clouds of gas in confined spaces, he also has a mild tick causing him to repeat ‘do you get me?’ in street-slang. My bro and I discovered it’s highly addictive and we’ve both found ourselves doing it, at first for amusement but it’s easy for it to just pop up, most peculiar.
Thursday evening I met up with Pete and Kate in (another) local, this one renowned for its excellent ales. Nice evening with a sensible finish at home with IC and the latest season of Curb Your Enthusiasm. It’s refreshing stuff in so far as it’s actually funny, in places brilliant, and shows that our American cousins do have a sense of humour if you dig around.
Right, time to go back to complaining about this fucking heat. Here’s Gerry’s chart, a fantastic tune from some old favourites and a cloud of noxious gas, do you get me?
NO. ARTIST SONG TITLE Last Week Weeks On High Pos
30 Cults Go Outside 20 5 17
29 Brett Anderson Brittle Heart NE 1 29
28 The Drums Money 21 5 21
27 Marina And The Diamonds Radioactive 28 2 27
26 Airship Algebra NE 1 26
25 Florence And The Machine What The Water Gave Me 22 4 22
24 The Wombats Our Perfect Disease 15 7 13
23 Enter Shikari Sssnakepit NE 1 23
22 Bring Me The Horizon It Never Ends 14 8 5
21 All The Young Quiet Night In NE 1 21
20 Kasabian Switchblade Smiles 12 9 2
19 Mastodon Curl Of The Burl 23 2 19
18 The Strokes Macchu Picchu 9 8 5
17 Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds AKA What A Life 25 2 17
16 Snow Patrol Called Out In The Dark 18 4 16
15 Battles ft Gary Numan My Machines NE 1 15
14 Evanescence What You Want 17 3 14
13 Kasabian Days Are Forgotten 7 6 5
12 Foo Fighters Arlandria 11 5 11
11 The Kooks Is It Me? 13 5 11
10 The Vaccines Norgaard 5 9 3
9 The Duke Spirit Surrender 16 2 9
8 Cherri Bomb Spin 10 3 8
7 All The Young Welcome Home 4 13 1
6 Janes Addiction Irresistable Force NE 1 6
5 Blink 182 Up All Night 3 5 3
4 The Subways We Don’t Need Money…… 2 6 2
3 The Horrors I Can See Through You 6 4 3
2 The Howling Bells Into The Sky 8 2 2
1 Bombay Bicycle Club Shuffle 1 6 1