Category Archives: nick cave

on any tuesday

You’re rather lucky to have a Piqued today, if that’s your want.

Whilst I’m an enormous fan of motorcycles I am aware that there is a certain danger aspect involved in their usage, this isn’t usually down to the motorcyclist per se I hasten to add. Even after years of prangs and near misses I still get a little upset when it comes to motorists trying to kill me but today’s incident(s) even next to the yardstick of my experience, beggars belief. In the space of 20 seconds I was nearly knocked off 3 times by 3 different four-wheeled fucks.

I was approaching a crossroads on the outside of a queue of vehicles as the lights changed, one of those homosexual pick up things with a name like MACHOGRRR suddenly performed a U turn and I performed an emergency stop, not a simple operation at the best of times but as I was now in the centre of the road this procedure was conducted on shale, so the bike slid in a most uncongenial fashion and I missed the bastard by centimetres. I leant on my horn, revved the shit out of the engine and used expletives, the fairy driving looked suitable shaken and weakly apologised so I moved off over the junction.

Due to my noise and display of accident avoiding skills the traffic had stopped to gawp so I crossed the junction ahead of all the wankers in cars where I narrowly missed a white van who’d jumped the lights to my left and to my fucking horror another one coming in the other direction who’d taken it on himself to turn right across my path, for the third time I had to brake hard as the van whisked in front of me leaving a hairs width gap. This time I went apeshit, holding up the queue behind, slap bang in the centre of the junction and I issued a complicated statement of gestures and dark language to all the fucking cars in the world before setting off with my rear wheel spinning, still shouting. By the time I arrived here I felt physically sick and needed a quiet sit down to process my remarkable escape from being spread over south London like angry Marmite.

I had a totally unremarkable Monday; Myfwt still in the throes of smoking abstinence has decided being around me isn’t assisting her cause so she stayed at her gaff whilst I yawned myself to death in mine. I was saved by two glasses of wine and another viewing of ‘On Any Sunday’ a delicious 1970’s documentary on motorcycle racing in the USA. Apart from being beautifully shot it features, in passing, Steve McQueen who had more than passing talent on a bike (btw he didn’t perform the jump in The Great Escape as the studio wouldn’t allow it, that was a chap called Bud Ekins, though McQueen was more than capable though on the strength of watching his talents in the film) and the whole thing is a homage to how jolly wonderful it is to ride. I’m not sure how non-bike fans would enjoy it and frankly I don’t give a shit.

Today’s youtube offing was recorded in one take. Apparently they were introduced to each other and after barely speaking a word the cameras rolled, they became lovers after they wrapped then split acrimoniously some months later and both featured the other on their next albums.

lazy face

The ride in this morning on the black bitch was incredible, I faced a steel grey sky with a perfect rainbow illuminating the future with brilliant white light bursting from behind. It was like being in an overexposed negative or the squinting eye shielding the Mediterranean sun, in the midst of this the rain and cold were relentless. Monday morning surrealism, I’d rather these things happened at the weekend when I can enjoy it.

My weekend was quite unremarkable in one respect. I didn’t really do anything, but in another it was possibly the most relaxing two days I‘ve had in an age. I always knew Friday was going to be spent in with Myfwt joining me later. What I wasn’t expecting as I was covering my black bitch up after arriving home was Cunt to apologise for his appalling behaviour last week, and sincerely inform me that he’ll keep the noise down before offering me a grubby little hand, which I reluctantly took, of course. I’m sure he’ll forget about his pledge shortly but in the meantime, I have peace and quiet and a crime reference number in my pocket should I have any more wankery.

On Saturday morning Myfwt went off to see her sister whilst I stayed in bed until lunchtime, I made breakfast then accidentally watched all of Diamonds are Forever, which I enjoyed immensely, much to my surprise. The shopping trip on Saturday was a lot more hardcore than usual, I had lots of stupid little bloody things to include among the regular items, but before all that I had to go to Homebase to get some grout for the bathroom sink. Rock and Roll, yeah.

In the evening I hooked up with Frank for a couple of ales in the local, which had a few very drunk Scottish people in it drowning their sorrows at volume. When I got home I made these rather clever little ham pepperoni cheese things with a spring onion sauce which Myfwt helped me eat when she got back.

Sunday was the best day of the lot, a true day of rest, 3 Scrapheap Challenges, 4 Grand Designs –which reminded me to grout the bathroom sink, it took 10 minutes and was beautiful job. I raced out to grab the Sunday papers at 2-ish and spent the entire afternoon lolling around on my tight buns watching TV and reading both broadsheet and tabloid without any shame whatsoever. It was fucking gorgeous, especially when it started to rain and I got one of those. ‘oooh, it’s nice in here and horrid out there’ ones you only get in the winter. I met Frank for a couple of ales in the early evening; it rained hard on my walk to and from the boozer. I cared not a jot as I was correctly attired in waterproofs, which made the walk into the flat even more satisfying.

With my eye on TopGear I made a chicken and mushroom pie with leak and potato, which was fucking stunning. By now I was so laid back I greeted Myfwt when she arrived back home with a ‘Yo’. We had a nightcap and shuffled off to bed. I slept like a log in complete peace, the first Sunday night in months.

I come into work this morning and a co-worker says to me, ‘are you growing a beard?’ I’ve had a full beard now for 3 weeks; it looks fucking superb I hasten to add… I replied, ‘no, I’m not growing a beard’. She looked confused, ‘what’s all the hair on your face, then?’

‘A beard’ I said.