Somebody put something in my drink.

Or at least that's what I reckon after last night's journey home.

Before that, the rest of the evening:

After a long day in the house (mostly spent in bed, sick with booze) and a visit to the Old Blue Last, Stuart arrived and the four of us headed off to the lovely Spiral Scratch Disco. This was not meant to be. There were police all over Muswell Hill which led to a lack of buses. So off we headed the long way round via Krap Yrubsnif to take the tube into town.

Ten hours later, without our free CD(due to not being the first 50 club-goers), we were there having a whale of a time. This is when my drink was tampered with.

I discovered this during the journey home, first when Stuart pointed out what appeared to be Hulk Hogan, in a skirt, pushing a shopping trolley containing a large electric fan on a stand. I then turned my head to the left, only to see Bananaman waiting for a bus. Waiting for a fucking bus while Camden Market burns to the ground. Some superhero.

Went to the new Rough Trade East today. It's not all that. But I did get "Love, Peace & Poetry: African Psychedelic Music" whch will make a nice companion to the Japanese comp of the same name. Go buy 'em - well worth 13 sovs.

The Visitors

No, not the Abba LP, you wallies. My brother came to visit, arriving by train yesterday from The Frozen North.

In celebration we rather foolishly stayed up till the next day boozing, which meant that we wasted half of today nursing hangovers. Six poached eggs later we made it onto a 43 bus heading off for the Tate Modern. I hoped that I'd be able to come back with tales of pensioners and small children trapped in 'Shibboleth' - alas, no. After this jolly jaunt we walked all the way to bloody Centrepoint due to a lack of transport options and waited approximately 3 weeks for a 134.

The Tate got the old cogs whirring and I had a good laugh with liitle brother thinking up installations we would present to the public. Top prize to him for 'Eppilept' - an ordinary gallery, until the lights go out, random strobes begin along with a pulsing sound and jets of cold water aimed at the viewer.

At this point you may or may not be wondering "why the plural in the title?" - since you're not, I'll tell you anyway. Stuart Indietracks is popping round this weekend, so that makes two. Full house eh?

yes.

This is it, I've done it. Not quite two feet first, but a toe in the water. I've never really had a proper blog before but much like smoking at school, everyone else is doing it.



We'll have to wait and see how long this whole thing lasts as I don't do a lot with my days and would hate to bore everyone with heaps of crap. Maybe I'll turn into another one of those people clogging up 'the web' with links to 'funny' clips. Then again, maybe not. Maybe I'll vent my bad sixth form literature. Then again, maybe not.



So there we have it, my mission statement. ahem.



for now.