nearly frosty

Apart from a few Cheese Balls (the absolute king of cheese corn snacks, really, they’re like an evolved Wotsit and more moreish than Kylie’s charlie) I ate nothing last night. But I did tape Masterchef which I watched at midnight drooling like a cracked up Winehouse before retiring to bed, partially sober and very tired, and sleeping like a smacked up Doherty.

Earlier in the evening Myfwt and I met up with Notagay (link right, filed under ‘he’s not gay, okay’) in a rather downmarket hostelry for a drinks in fucking Wimbledon. I knew it was a bit below par because it was over populated by those wiry pale men that drink lager and look like they enjoy porn and assault, the barmaid screaming ‘Dave! Service! I’m busting for a big piss!’ didn’t exactly set the tone for champagne and oysters either. Anyway, Myfwt and I found a table and Notagay joined us shortly after and we settled down.

A pleasant evening ensued, Notagay and I had a few pints of ale and Myfwt enjoyed a few G&T’s which we supped slowly, mainly because we were all gassing at once. So much nattering went on that we found ourselves on the ‘blast’ side of closing time and we were virtually turfed out into the night. All the good intentions of taking a bus were poo poed when a black cab slunk past and Mywft and I bid a fond farewell to Notagay and we disappeared off home.

It’s a lovely day today, fucking cold but beautifully bright and sunny. I’m enjoying not feeling like I’ve spent all night being Abu Hamza’s bitch due to over indulgence and as a result my day at work is easier to deal with. Speaking of which, it’s a short post today because I’m extraordinarily busy but before I go some information on today’s youtube entry.

This band look ridiculous. This may have something to do with their being a Swiss lot but any band who can lay claim to a tune called ‘Phallic Tantrum’ can’t be that bad. Their importance as pioneers of thrash/black metal cannot be understated and even now their influence can be heard in more contemporary acts such as Emperor and Dimmu Borgir. But their reach is wider than that, both Kurt Cobain and Dave Grohl were inspired by them, the latter even used the CF front man Tom Gabriel Fischer to perform on his metal compilation project Probot, more on that tomorrow. Do check out the awesome ‘death grunt’ employed by the lead fellow. It’s lovely.

wide awake

I’m bloody shattered. I’m not sure if its down to my viewing of the fucking Blair Witch Project last week but I have been waking up at precisely 3.45 for every night this week save Sunday, which is the night I had to witness a nightmare, and was the only night that waking up at 3.45 would’ve been helpful.

The thing is that as soon as I’m awake I’m aware in that semi-conscious fog between the state of being asleep and awake (the part that the surrealists get wood about) that I am, and the mind starts racing until I’m actually awake, the whole blinking-in-the-dark-feeling-frankly-pissed-off awake.

My attempts to return to sleep consist of various tried and tested sleeping positions. Covering oneself but leaving one limb out of the duvet until it’s stone cold is oddly effective when the cold limb is brought home, similarly, lying on ones side with ones bare back exposed and hugging a wadge of duvet prior to returning to the classic side position can also do the trick. Since my disc slipped I’ve been unable to sleep on my front and feel that my sleeping has subsequently suffered, thanks back, yeah.

Anyway, none of these methods worked so I remained awake for about 2 christing hours as the sun came up, dozed off until 7.15, woke up and then fell asleep again, I was subsequently late on my refusing to get out of my pit.

After my rather splendid cycle home yesterday I dumped the bike, changed and set out. It was a glorious evening, perfect actually. I arrived at the boozer on Clapham Common a minute after my brother and we chatted to one of our pals who works behind the bar before heading off to sit by the window and watch the world go by as we sipped on Grolsch. My brother was shattered but after a pint, a chat with his missus that coincided with a call from Myfwt he got a second wind and we were off. We spent the evening discussing that Rock programme on BBC, Alan Partridge and Glastonbury, which is coming sooner than I’d realised. After 4 pints I was feeling unusually pissed, possibly due to a light lunch yet my bro blackmailed me into a whisky and ginger, which I wolfed down. After much giggling we went our separate ways and I arrived home seconds away from doing tinkle in my pants.

I’m not hangover today but I am knackered due to the lack of sleep, to add insult to injury I’ve a horrifically busy day, which is why today’s offing is somewhat short. I’ve two interviews, an important meeting and a stressed boss to contend with… it’s a lovely day though.

In the meantime, these young men cropped up in conversation last night. They look rather peculiar but make lovely noises. Turn it up.

Thanks