Got involved in some Diana action a while back and this is the fruit of my loom. Think it was in Bath at Easter and it was hot. Hot hot. We ate mussels with amazing bread and then we went and had a BBQ with amazing sausages. Merguez.
Andy and I not being particularly terrible.
It’s been too hot lately and that’s led to lots of thinking about ice lollies and ice lolly making, and also thinking about getting the fan I bought moons ago off the too high rickety shelf. But no, let’s just open the windows wider and be woken up before alarms, by leaking sunlight jumping through the cracks, screaming, ‘Good morning, fuckers!’ at 4.30am.
Sometimes I want to punch the sun.
raket, originally uploaded by its your life.
Hello Saturday, I can see you. What shall we do? Some writing, making, sleeping, watching and listening to new records. And cat stealing.
Because I like this and because Monday is generally not a day full of likes.
I had a typewriter. It would be pointless and I would never, if hardly ever, use it, but I like the solidness and the sound of fingertips bashing at the keys. No notes out of this contraption, just words made up of letters, made up of thoughts, made up of dark corners of minds filled up with little grey balloons that can cause shudders and action. Colours.
That reminds me, everyone should read anything they can by Oliver Sacks – he’ll make you think you, or least your brain, is amazing.
