why is breezy veruca footwear like a portrait of oliver cromwell?
because they're both wart sandal!

my last weekend in brighton was pretty much as good as any. it was fantastiic to bump into someone on on western road on friday night - it felt like the old days. it was even better that it was ed, a mate of boy robin's, and that he told us there was a house party at robin's pad, just like the old days, but without falling down the stairs .
i wonder whatever happend to that shirt?

something happened on monday too. i'm sure it was pretty nice.

it was my going away party again last tuesday night - i say again because going through my diaries i found a page of friends in durham, with two columns next to their names: 'seen' and 'said goodbye'. that was more of a rolling three day party as everyone graduated around me. this year, it was three quarters of our house (to be fair, i didn't tell thom, but then i thought the chances of him taking a day off work at two day's notice were so low it wasn't worth the effort). when the two people who had come by nine o'clock, astra and rachel (who brought the required nibbles), both left, it looked like that was it. when simon arrived at ten o'clock and was largely ignored in favor of some last minute file swapping (real men exchange files, not pleasantries) it looked like it was over. it was such a shame. the house looked swell, and my room, lit by fairy lights, candles and beautiful agony (which confused astra while she was upstairs on the 'phone) was the dream hang out. but at a last minute, the cavalry arrived - anna and robin and kate and joel so we went down stairs and the beer got drunk and the tunes got played and then 'his and hers' came on and the party ended, everyone left. i could feel it. there are times when i'm deejaying when i'm wilfully punishing my audiance, i'll admit, seguing into d.e.p.'s 'the mullet burden' before finishing with radiohead's 'fog' (or anything else), but that last night, i wanted people to stay as long as possible, and had to play to the crowd. fortunately, the crowd were friends with similar music taste, so simian, terris, tv ont'radio and pulp were quite well recieved, people bobbed along in their seats and joel said he felt like dancing (although he always does and it's a good job he didn't if it was going to involve him making the hole in the wall larger). people went, we went to bed.

on my last day in brighton, i packed. i cycled down on to the beach to watch the sun set with a pack of chips, and was mobbed by hungry seagulls, as if they were saying, 'go! go back to the north!' i mentally rode around all my haunts; the walmer castle, for pizza, guiness cocktails and beutiful songs by abi and astra; the house rach, robin and simon had, and how i would always linger too long in perfect comfort; queen's park, "...and sussex!" on may day; deep kemptown, where i saw low perform in a church with alex, near the hand in hand brew-pub; the concorde where i saw a so many excellent bands - the plan (twice), the luna, the duath, the markets, and so on; meeting john peel in the free butt (where i saw all the other really good bands)and thanking him for getting gorky's to play, but being to shy to give him a copy of dovedale joints, so jess had to do it; turning veggie and finding it so easy; the mystery of deep hove. but what really sticks in my mind from brighton is missed opportunity. i could have put a band together. i could have played at an open mic every night. we could have had a monthly dj slot in the penthouse. i could have got a better degree. i could have eaten at terre a terre. i could have gone to that gig that i didn't feel like. icould have made some of my own friends instead of leaching off alex. i could have had a university girlfriend. but maybe i couldn't! and i don't regret my time.

that last night we went out to departure lounge at the prince albert (ironically enough), but never made it, as we got distracted at robin, kate and jess's house with top trumps (see earlier post), although jess was still out and busy with mad brighton stuff. there was an excellent play somewhere near the middle: five is a good number to play with, and the more of a state people are in the more brains are needed to bolster the game (sorry if this sounds trite but it's difficult to think properly when the computer you're typing at has a two second lag between you typing the words and them appearing).
somehow, maradonna was played by robin. selecting the atribute, "famous people who sound like other famous people", she gave him an 8 (for obviously, maddonna). it was a tricky play, nearly unbeatable, but kate piped up with robin williams (for robbie williams). moving horizontally through game space, via the deck "people who were good when you were young and are still good", she went to tina turner, and played her "legs" for 9. lindfrodo christie almost had it, but i took the round with a flea. selecting the deck 'insects' after an interminable wait, i played a dung beetle, using it's "affection for poo". laurence won the round with g.g. allin; and so forth. robin donated several boxes and an amplifier to my cause, and both have already been hugely enjoyable, so thanks.
i went back to finish off packing, which happened at 4 o'clock. there was a lovely point where catherine came over and i had a reviving cup of tea, but eventually i had to spurn her to finish the job. 8 hours later my room was clean and empty of meaningful belongings (but full of unwanted furniture) and i was riding north with my father. it was a relaxed goodye to laurence; "i'd hug you but i've an erection and i'm only wearing tiny pants," i said, to which he replied, "that's ok, we'll do it next time." we don't need tears. it's better than that. but how far removed from that early meeting when he asked on leaving, "don't i get a hug?" tommy was in a very huggy mood, after sitting on his bed watching his screen saver while mitri and i packed up the car. even simona wanted a hug.

anyway, kolak crisps: lemon and chili flavour are delicious. not in a naff 'sensations' way, but in a tasty food way. they're made with all natural ingredients (according to the pack), are refreshingly thin, are only sold in easy news on trafalgar street, and as far as i can make out, haven't been picked up by snackspot. someone better review them quick!

and bloody heck, i know i shouldn't even mention it, but little britain is such trite! i don't understand how two previously talented people can make something so... rubbish; it's the only word, and yet be so wildly succesful. yes i only watched two scetches, but it was really painful.

oh yeah, and today, i was meant to sign on in manchester. so i go to a job centre in town, and after waiting for the lady to stop nattering to the man in the queue in front of me - who turned out to be merely an employee, and she looked somehow startled when she noticed me, even though i'd been standing there staring at her for a minute; but they don't do benefits, only adverts, so she directs me to the one in rusholme, from her list of other job centres "it's a very handy list this," she sayd to the man; "and who've youu got to thank for that?" he replied. the website he got it from, if you ask me, but if he wants to take the credit he can. well i tell you, never has a busride so short taken so long (hearing two students sat behind me continually refer to it as the 'curry mile' and never once as rusholme was interesting). off the bus, i walk down the less-than-great 'great western road' (huh, they should see the one they've got in brighton, and that one actually goes west not east) and find the job centre in question, which, as it turns out, has been closed to the public since april 2003. some fucking list.
Post a Comment