Shit, Spit, Meat and a Week Old Boiled Potato
Is that it, then? January, I mean - is that it over already? It seemed pretty painless in comparison to recent years, there must be some catch. But then, I've tried to keep myself pretty occupied, so I've barely noticed the month passing. This is a good thing.
The village is unnaturally quiet sometimes. I awoke this morning at 11:15, to the sound of.. well, silence. Peeking through the curtains, I saw nothing moving (and that wasn't just because I didn't have my glasses on). Nobody washing cars, or fiddling with motorbikes, or hanging out clothes, or gardening, or walking down the street, or driving by. Just an eerie peace. I figured the Queen Mum must've passed away, and went to check Ceefax - but no, even the news headlines had remained largely unchanged overnight.
This is the way the day continued - quietly. I achieved some minor tasks on my to-do list, which basically meant knocking together a quick car tape and fiddling with the PC a bit. I caught up with some email, and was particularly careful not to embark on tasks which I could just as easily do during the week, whilst away from home. So, it was quiet, but pleasantly productive.
Arab Strap in the bedroom/office, Primal Scream in the kitchen. Not literally, of course - that would be silly, as well as vaguely annoying; I'd have to make them all cups of tea and clean up after them. That'd be a challenge, given that I'm barely capable of cleaning up my own mess - I lost my mobile phone again today, so had to call it from the landline and follow the beeps. And if they wanted food, that'd be practically traumatic. I decided to grill some crumpets for lunch, rather than take the easy option of eating a banana or yoghurt. But then I was distracted by a review in The Times of the new Fierce Panda compilation LP. Before you could say "Ning", my lunch was charcoal.
"Shit, Spit, Meat and a Week Old Boiled Potato."
This sounds really interesting, which I'd had cause to be there.
"The Solitary Trout's Abject Breakfast: Melancholy and Loneliness in Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions." Mmm, exactly.
| Car Tunes, Volume 7 | ||
| Air | - | Sexy Boy |
| Minty | - | Plastic Bag |
| Whale | - | Hobo Humpin' Slobo Babe |
| Spandau Ballet | - | Gold |
| Duran Duran | - | A View To A Kill |
| Fuzzy | - | Girl Don't Tell Me |
| Posh | - | Mermaid |
| Audience | - | I Know Enough (I Don't Get Enough) |
| Lodger | - | I'm Leaving |
| Divine Comedy | - | National Express |
| James | - | Tomorrow |
| Pixies | - | Debaser |
| Cha Cha Cohen | - | Freon Shortwave |
| U2 | - | A Sort Of Homecoming |
| R.E.M. | - | Hope |
| Hole | - | Malibu |
| Manic Street Preachers | - | Tsunami |
| Placebo | - | Pure Morning |
| Garbage | - | When I Grow Up |
| PJ Harvey | - | A Perfect Day Elise |
| Jack | - | Steamin' |
| Belle & Sebastian | - | This Is Just A Modern Rock Song |
| John Lennon | - | Jealous Guy (from 'Anthology') |
Right, I'm off to catch the reruns of I'm Alan Partridge before bed.
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