1. I made it back alive. I know some of you are from Brighton so I will choose my words carefully :) Everyone was really pleasant and friendly which I thought was amazingly unusually for the South of England. In my experience the further north you are the friendlier the folk but full marks to Brighton for being super friendly and helpful. Something does trouble me about Brighton tho' I can't put my finger on it. It's not London-On-Sea as I've heard it described but from the looks of things, it is a place with an identity crisis. It is the home of the stag and hen. You have to wear trews and shoes to get into the clubs (unheard of in Bristol), yes the pier and front are tacky, but...at it's heart there are bags of top shops and thriving music scene. The marina is fantastic and there are some excellent restaurants. There are busloads of young people and there is a great atmosphere. I'd love to do take a brassy blonde and have a traditional dirty weekend there. Drive down in a convertible, day trips to the South Downs, any takers? Anyhoo thank you Brighton.
2. No thank you Psyche Mikey keeping me up until five and twenty to six you evil shit.
3. A friend of mine has a good friend C who is how shall I say a bit slow on the uptake. Recently they went to a wedding. Some of the guests were gay and two guys introduced themselves to C. "I'm Todd and this is my partner Michael." C looks quizzical and says "Are you two cops?"
4. What's the point of a pier anyway when you have perfectly good land to build on?
5. I have found alot of things irritating of late, mainly shabby TV. I would rather cook my own fingers like sausages than listen to another minute of Jeremy Vine's voice. Last night, excellent documentary, dreadful commentary. I find it very difficult to imagine geology if someone just explains it. Secondly that forensic programme on after it. The writing, the structure, and the characterisation was shocking. The Claire Goose character, oh dear. The Trevor Eve character, is an arsehole. No need.
6. I think my post staggy hangover is in the post and it's late.
7. I am checking the national press for my theory on Rooney. I bet that journo I met will nick it. Peter Crouch, £2milllion? Did I miss something? Isn't he Ormerod in disguise?
8. Had a long chat with my contact. He's gonna put me in touch. He's got connections everywhere. He is the gatekeeper to the next level, at last I have found him.
9. I am not above dirty jokes. Two women on their way back from the pub stop in a cemetary for a pee. The first one takes off her knickers and dries herself, the second is wearing no knickers so she grabs a ribbon off a nearby wreath. The next day their husbands were discussing events. "I'm not letting my wife go out with yours again, she came home with no knickers on last night." "That's nothing, mine came home with a card up her arse saying we'll never forget you, love from all the boys at the fire station."
10. Listen to Gordon Brown's plans this afternoon. Madness abounds. No one ever saved any money through efficiencies. It's a paper saving that will never be realised and he will put us in hock. Economic disaster looms, I give it three years before you all have negative equity and no jobs. No one's got a better plan though. My local MP is standing down at the next election, perhaps I should run? Anyone know anyone in the Labour party who can swing my nomination? Politics is all about lying, nepotism and who you know so I am starting in a bad lane. I'm a rubbish liar, I do not have any well placed family members and I don't really know anyone. Well we've all got to start somewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment