| Sunday, December 21st, 2003 |
| 8:54 am |
|
| 8:35 am |
The colour of sin
Alf was busy again. He had decided to paint the front gate barbie pink to go with the front door. Mrs Brown from No.42 said it was a cheery colour indeed. Fred Williams from across the street thought it was a bit "poofy". Alf had finished the job by 3 o'clock and went inside to make a cup of tea. He sat in the front room and listened to a presenter on Radio 4 informing him about the dangers of eating salt. The sky was starting to fade into a grey gloom by the time he rose from the chair. He opened the front door to admire his work on the gate. The gate was a dark green. Alf went upstairs for a wash and a lie down. Current Mood:  distressed |
| Sunday, December 14th, 2003 |
| 11:13 am |
Push the rabbit out the door
Man hit by mystery virus saga draws to a close (fingers crossed) secrets, secrets.... Nicola........Rezebel......... You both looked stunning Last Night xx where is my little Foxx? Jon, we need to get together for a new song writing session. Claire- you need to be more objective...... Ken still looks like a refugee. Laurel- I love you- you are the star.... Current Mood: creative |
| Friday, December 12th, 2003 |
| 2:37 am |
sory, forgot the mood/ music Current Mood:  lethargic |
| 2:24 am |
Too tired to care
Lots of people I enjoy being around is good & not scary today. A healing thing I trust... The wind blew a car across the motorway and it ended up balanced on the crash barriers of the central reservation. the driver, a man aged sixty-four, was unhurt but had fainted. when he came to he believed he was in an out of control aircraft. He decided to bail out and was crushed by a lorry. a moral? no chance. xxxxxxxx |
| Tuesday, December 9th, 2003 |
| 11:07 pm |
|
| 10:44 pm |
with my lipstick girl
well, if you were wondering about the picture, it is significant because the whole world says "KEN-EAT!!!!!". My grandfather went down the pit on a good hearty breakfast (& he lost an eye, so there!). Did you know that Yendik was a Russian dissident who died of starvation in Siberia? And spelt backwards his name is kidney, so that must mean something. Dinosaurs apparently had no conception of overeating and the reason they are now extinct is their stomachs all exploded from the pressure of too much food. (the postman told me that, so it must be true). I have promised I will, as the scale keeps saying "get on now" I say "I am on!" & the scale replies "get on now". I would get quite a bargain though if I was to Post myself on holiday. I may rename myself polystyrene boy- so very light, but holds its shape well Current Mood: anxious |
| Thursday, December 4th, 2003 |
| 2:57 am |
Line from the factory.....
Don't send me postcards. The water on this particular day had flowed unending from the slate sky. The puddles had gone from trickles to streams and were flowing over the kerbs. An extra from Grand Prix was driving the local bus down the road like a plane taking off from Luton. He hit the largest puddle at warp speed which had the same effect as a sumo wrestler jumping in a full bath. The spray actually reached the bedroom window, but the bulk (i.e. about 50 gallons) hit yours truly as he opens gate. Bus tidal wave proceeds to take not only me but also the gate, gripped in hands of death, to the front porchway. Laugh! Thought I'd never start...... Current Mood:  touched |
| Tuesday, December 2nd, 2003 |
| 4:05 am |
The Little Death
No, really, you had to be there.... 16 young Jazz brass players in a new arrangement of Modern Way........ So I decided when I was five that I was not in fact human but a robot. A robot made in such perfection that only I knew the truth. It would act in an identical manner to a human boy even down to the fact it heaved up the brussel sprouts that Sunday lunchtime. Amazing, eh? Hi Claire & John. Current Mood: blah |
| Sunday, November 23rd, 2003 |
| 10:26 pm |
come back mother....won't you tell me you love me
lyrical and unbalanced. chain number 9. about a man chained in a yard along with many others after reaching the end of use. they live amoung pigs and the pretty ones watch them through the window. they gamble on who will die first. jon drum foxx- i love this guy. enough talent for ten men. Current Mood:  ditzy |
| Saturday, November 22nd, 2003 |
| 1:59 am |
an avocado blanket wrapped around my legs
still pale and wan from some virus thingy. dug up BE... today & might use it saturday, depending on Jon Foxx. Nicola- you are still my one friend (and very cosy too). i am doing song sheets for the new songs tomrrow- how sad is that? they look like those things they hand out at church on xmas eve....... the strangeness of being Current Mood:  discontent |
| Wednesday, November 19th, 2003 |
| 12:28 pm |
When the car came to a sudden grinding halt twenty miles from anywhere, Geoff knew his worst day had started. It was 2.20 a.m. and the chill wind had been nudging the car about like a smaller brother. He had not seen another vehicle for the last fifteen miles, and now was convinced he had taken a wrong turning six miles back. The lane was so narrow a bike would have problems overtaking and Geoff managed to lever the door open nine inches and slide, liquid, through the gap. He perched on the mud bank and turned up his coat collar to prevent the icy wind from biting his ears. “Bugger! Bastard, bugger, bugger”. The mobile phone he pulled from his pocket did not, of course, pick up a signal. The wind was now doing the “ghosts in graveyard” stuff with the overhanging trees, getting that note that precedes the headless horseman appearing from nowhere. He edged around the battered Renault to the bonnet and felt for the strand of copper wire holding it to the front grill. The trouble was, his hands were so cold he couldn’t grip the wire, though he managed to pierce his thumb twice. The effort was pointless anyway as he had as much mechanical skill as his cat. Geoff shuffled back round and slipped back into the car. He picked up his dog-eared AA road map (twelve years out of date), switched on the pathetic overhead light, and stuck his finger on the spot where he “believed” he had broken down. There was a village marked on the road about two miles ahead: Tippen Harford. Geoff took a deep breath, hitched up his collar and pushed the door ajar…. hmmmm... stories are inner glories or the truth battered and deep fried. unconnected----- Rezi- you are a constant- that is a huge good in Kens land. x Current Mood: blah |
| 12:10 pm |
flex the tiny muscles of your soul
so..... feeling ok now, the wickedness has subsided. Saturday is time for new song- Twisty Kiss- and maybe an introduction via a free form instrumental with the cuddly Jon Drum Foxx doing vocal interpretations. If that doesn't sound pretentious then my names not Albert Howitzer. It isn't? well, there you go. anyway, I will decide on Saturday, when I see what mood my babies are in...... Nicola- book cover, a few ideas. x. I brushed my fingers along the wall, The crimson trail revealed my path. Explanation is difficult, sometimes tedious in extreme, The daughter knew The true scale Of the dream Current Mood:  frustrated |
| Tuesday, November 18th, 2003 |
| 1:47 pm |
From the Devil to the Cannes
Sorry to all the Stevenage cars who went home yesterday a bit smelly. I had to do a major vomit in Great Ashby Way in the early hours. Went home for rest and sympathy. Oh poor thing..........etc. Not well. Current Mood:  nauseated |
| Saturday, November 15th, 2003 |
| 7:12 pm |
violet conversation
A tree. A gust of wind. Tree wrenches itself from the earth and topples into road. Cars swerves to avoid... hits Daily Mail sign by newsagents. Driver reads the message through cracked windscreen: "Eat more fish- it's good for you- Official!". So he did. Current Mood: drained |
| Wednesday, November 12th, 2003 |
| 11:06 am |
Hidden Children
Seaside trip today. Work stress, mind completely screwed. Threats and bets on how long I'll last. I say give me the riverside and a cup of tea, a book and a sunny day. Then I'll be the happy one- today. Current Mood:  contemplative |
| 11:01 am |
Not Lovescars
The Underworld Unfurled Red hair whirl American girl You do not impress though i think You impressed you |
| Sunday, November 9th, 2003 |
| 3:53 am |
pick her on a stolen line
Did I tell you about the time this old guy @ 60, bank manager type, was in the supermarket? He suddenly starts to shake, and screams with voice from bowels of earth "I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE!!!!!". Upon which he flops to the floor as if to offer a Muslim prayer, then proceeds to bash his head against the surface....... It's a strange world. The problem is- who is sane? Current Mood:  confused |
| Friday, November 7th, 2003 |
| 6:40 pm |
slinky linky
so, Laurel informs me my ramblings are now on public view. So, i shall now dry up & chase empty sweet wrappers across the park. hair cut today & i look like Rod Stewart. Lay on bed, fell asleep. Woke with a start, shouting "wake up Maggie, I think I got something to say to you!" Going back to hairdressers tomorrow... (as long as I don't wake up on Sunday shouting "I believe my policies were right for the Conservatives then & still do now, even though you sacked me you bastards!" Current Mood: chipper |
| 2:20 am |
fearless
so, Laurel then gave the big sorry,I dropped him off at work & all is tranquility in the Shard house once more. oh, apart from ezebel slipping in the dogs poo- a creative skater move kept her upright. Did i tell you the bloke down the shop hasn't spoken to me for 8 months because I ordered 10 croissant one Sunday and then proceeded to oversleep. And his stick wife persists in giving me her best "aren't you the stuff Ezebel slipped in" look. I'd stick to the squirrel nightmares personally. Current Mood:  tired |
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