Thursday

Another term finds me irresolute and procrastinating. I am still alive, for those of who who've very sweetly expressed concern. I've just been mega busy a.k.a. cycling/sleeping/discovering 'The Melbow Rooms' still do toffee-apple flavoured Brothers/wearing dork glasses, being a hipster/reading well but being too chicken to make incisive comments in seminar.

Found out Carson McCullers was a chick. Then found out Cass McCombs (right) is playing Thekla. My ever-present sidekick/valet/comic foil Darren and I are going. 16th November. Wanna come too? Yeah you do!

(Big Jeff is obv. going to be there.)

Speaking of finding things, you know FOUND Magazine? (Nice segue, well done) They're doing a talk/show at the Arnolfini tonight and, as ever, Darren and I will be there.

He: Hello?
Me: Hey, it's me.
He: Hey, how're you doing?
Me: HOLY RUSTED METAL BATMAN! NO TIME FOR CHIT CHAT! THE HIPSTER SIGNAL IS SHINING OVER GOTHAM'S SKIES!

da na na na na na na na, da na na na na na &c.

(The above exchange, in case you couldn't guess, was an absolute fabrication, and one of a diseased and mouldy mind at that. My Batmobile has five gears. And is a bicycle.)

"Cult magazine FOUND brings its rowdy roadshow to Arnolfini for an evening of voyeuristic fun. Expect tongue-in-cheek readings from the magazine and songs based on found notes, pictures and objects, &c."

£3 for students, rock and roll.

I have many, many more stories to tell and pictures to share, Sarah Haskins videos to links to, and an election across the pond which is fairly exciting to think about, but right now I have to go to the launderette and then to work. Is it my day off? Yeah, I think so. Is it fuck as like.

Quick round-up of Things To Come:

Play: Real-Life Exchange Between Clueless Toff And Humble Narrator (dramatised in the fashion of Samuel Beckett's frustrating comic masterpiece Waiting For Godot).
Photographs: ladyboys, me in maroon, Darren also in maroon (he's feeling maroon as much as I am right now, and as much as Kate did about a year ago), Norwich, Bristol, life.
Work: My New Old Job. Tom Now Has My Old Old Job. Why Exactly That Job Was So Gay. What Happened The Time I Got Cheered In A Bar For Being The 'Legend' Who Got Fired From That Job.
Music, books, fashion. Sex? Shoplifting. Getting hit on quite a bit. Facebook! Our flat, and the bad things that've happened there. Updates. Gossip. Shoes. Come back soon! It's going to be a par-tay.

Oh yeah! And if you see a toff, especially a toff in a BMW, punch him in his shit for me. I've had it up to here with toffs. More on that later.