Some (very) minor success
KIZ (full of gratitude): You've nicked
my parking space.
KIZ: (she stayed up a bit late): I
heard you banging about at six o'clock. I put the pillow over my ears
and went back to sleep.
Here's the good part:
KIZ: (on hearing the doorbell working)
You fixed it! Awesome! (I changed the batteries).
KIZ: (on the threshold bar being fixed
down – the massive matter of half a dozen screws) Fantastic! No
more tripping over all the time.
I didn't tell her that I'd tripped over
it so big time that morning that there was no question of not fixing
it down, as it was flapping about six inches above the floor.
The big matter of the lights remains
unresolved, but I do now have a series of photos of the switch
(disassembled, no defects visible), the ceiling rose (disassembled
(despite the rose surround preventing access to the rose) and no
defects visible), and the outside light switch (disassembled, no
defects visible). That no visible defects thing – that's not what I
was hoping for. But a big thanks to Kiz for making me feel a whole
lot better.
MM's club night
I can't pretend to understand, because
I never really got the disco thing, but maybe I would've were it not
for the poor quality of so much of the music being churned out when I
was the right age to go to clubs. That was a time when I did a rare
thing, and made a resolution I've stuck with, to not be the oldest
swinger in town. You know the sort of thing. Shirt open. Hairy chest.
Medallion. Ten to fifteen years older than anyone else in the room.
I do understand the love of music, I
understand anything goes as long as it's vinyl. I understand the
win-win-win of punters having a great, wild Friday night at
reasonable cost, MM and a couple of others doing well out of endless
hours of work pulling the whole thing together, and a small,
independent venue doing well out of hosting those punters and
promoters.
The idea of independent DJ's playing
stuff they believe in makes sense too. Well done mate. Keep it small
and real for a while and let it build organically, I'm sure it will.
Adopt a...pigeon?
BLISS' favourite peg-leg pigeon may
mean us building an outdoor, or even an indoor (look, over my dead
body will evaporate after one smile to “well, maybe” and after
another to “okay, where do you want it?”).
Top of the (premier) league
That's where we are, with what we've
got. But, without a doubt, we either spend now to enhance what we've
got, or see Citeh and Chelski power past us in the next six months.
That wasn't convincing against Fulham,
but I love seeing them done over since they (men) bashed us
Gillingham (under elevens) up. I have no respect for that club, or
their fans, and would gladly see them relegated through the ranks to
non-league football where they belong. Even the toughest, most
ruthless crews of the football violence years would've let schoolboys
go with just a fright, at most.
No comments:
Post a Comment