I spent yesterday afternoon shadowing some fellow from Dynorod, the boss had fucked off for the afternoon leaving me to make sure that he didn’t do anything common, like drinking tea from a mug with a spoon in it, or eating an uncut sandwich with both hands… it’s rather a wonderful English trait, the innate suspicion the middle classes have for the working classes, really, they’ll steal your silver as soon as knees up muvver brahn. Having said that it cuts both ways, being a bit of both and all that, Squire.
It’s absurdly cold today but again, quite stunning. I do like cold winter mornings when it’s fucking sunny and frosty and shit… You see, I moaned about autumn but maintained that when I was actually in winter I didn’t mind, I’ve just proved it right there. The light is Golden and I’ve not seen so much frost in a year, the whole world seems coated in icing sugar or cocaine depending on your predilections (or speed if you’re working class).
The only pisser about today, apart from the office aspect to it, is that I’m wearing a fucking suit, a black suit with a white shirt, and deliberately obtuse black tie. I look like Mr. Pink off to a funeral, sort of cool but not quite. The reason for this fancy dressery is a drinks do at the BBC this evening to wave some poor fellow off, it sticks a bloody great nail in my evening and I’m anticipating being arseholed by 8, I’m on the fence as to how I feel about that.
Last night was pleasant. Myfwt came over in time to talk on the phone to her sister all the way through Russell Brand on BBC4 doing a sort of documentary about Kerouac’s On the Road, from what I could glean, in between the sisterly guffawing and banter, was that it wasn’t bad at all. Actually, Myfwt isn’t a happy bunny at the mo, some woman at work has taken a dislike to her because she’s essentially walked into a company and turned it round single handedly. Her bosses are ecstatic, her colleagues impressed, save this one jealous co-worker. She’s such a nice person Myfwt, she doesn’t deserve people being horrid to her… I’ve half a mind to go round to her office and kick the horrid lady in the cunt.
After Russell there was a very satisfactory documentary on Pink Floyd. I’ve been a fan from the off, at the same time my auntie gave me Dark Side of the Moon when I was 10 I bought Relics (assuming it would be in the same vain as Dsotm) from Woolies for 99p with my pocket money. Dsotm is relatively easy listening for a youngster over the more experimental early stuff, but I grew to love it dearly and my little brain ‘got’ psychedelia. I’ve no doubt it created a foundation for my adolescence; through it I knew who I was very early on. Even now I still take drugs.
So, in celebration of Pink Floyd, today and tomorrow a tune from both ends of their chronology. I heard this song last night and forgot how fucking good it is, brought a lump to my throat. Self indulgent, even cheesy, fuck it. Listen.