Je Suis Un Rosbif

OUI oui, ou la la as they say in France I'm a real rosbif (as the Frogs call us).

I was wondering why the steak hardly went anywhere last time (I put in half what I'd bought)... until I checked the fridge this morning only to find about two thirds of the original purchase left.

This I cooked in traditional rosbif style, or rather the style of my own, which is to fry it up, add onions and mushrooms, turf into a more permanent lidded pot with a bit of water, chuck spices on top (fewer than last time for a more stately dinner), allowed it to bubble on setting #1 for about three hours until it was tender enough to cut with the side of a teaspoon.

This I had with baby potatoes (boiled freshly and separately) and heaps of petits pois. The gravy came out particularly nice. Hey I'm learning (slowly). The onion mushroom gravy was pretty fabulous.

Still no keys!

Haven't got round to contacting the landord yet. I can't face stuff like that.

Really I feel pretty depressed all the time. That is why I fixate on these petty things I blog about; they are my only claim to sanity(!)

Sorry I have not been good at keeping in touch anywhere near as well as I'd like with anyone. I need a proper computer account. Fell out with the last cafe owner as his nonfirewalled nonprotected computers were apt to crash what with my fishing things in and out of youtube and jumping in and out of blogs. He assumed I was doing something peculiar and said basically I couldn't buy time there anymore, so...

Anyway, I know hardly anything about classical music. Like most people, I just know what I like from TV and films. I've had to make a great effort to learn who any of the tunes I know are by let alone what they're actually called. I'd say this is my favourite tune of all time:~

Mozart: Lacrimosa/Requiem
This is what I call sublime...



And this the Tekno'd up "mix". Volume LOUD, please...



PS Do you like my illustration? In case you're foreign the cup-shaped battery object is Yorkshire pudding and no Sunday lunch is complete without it!

Roast Result

THE POT ROAST CAME OUT LOVELY. Only problem was the thin aluminium pan burnt too much at the bottom. Even though I knew this from last time I attempted stewing in it, I still did it again and worse! The meat came out really good. It was just like the serving suggestion, actually.

I'm going to have to save up for a slow cooker like I had in my last house (but broke). They only cost £10 (price of a bag of drugs) but do I ever have £10 to spare..??

Also. Dur. Because the only proper saucepan I have is about half the size of that slowcooker I learnt to cook in the spices came out twice as strong. That was only 4xflat teaspoons of 4 various curry powders (so dull to use just the one!) + ginger + loads of paprika. Only after mulling in the fridge did it calm down, then it was OK.

I'm feeling very circumspect today and trying to envision a way out of my predicament I can actually do. Which is not easy.

Pot Roast Roborovskis

TWO OF MY ROBOROVSKIS were squabbling on a slice of burnt toast last night. Honking and squealing away. O, the bizarre life of the dwarf Mongolian hammy!

I have three stewing "steaks" upon my person as I speak. These shall be chucked in a pot with baby potatoes (if I can find them), carrots, onions, petits pois and stringbeans (if I remember to get them) plus the seasoning of 1 desertspoon mixed curry and jerk seasoning powders; 1 desert spoon paprika; 1 teaspoon ginger; 1 teaspoon mixed herbs; up to 10 desert spoons Lea & Perrins. O yeah: and mushrooms as per the illustration...

...I am hoping to make a yummy pot roast so wish me luck!

I've never done "pot roast" before... that being (as I understand it) basically a casserole with big chunks of meat in it rather than my ordinary cubed steak. Problem with cubed steak is I tend to fish too much of it out just to "check the taste" so half of it's gone before said dish has even finished cooking!

As for Sunday ~ o the drugs drugs drugs. I was in such a bad mood without them. Which is why I still wanted gear when the methadone finally kicked in (at about 9 at night!) All day I'd had to eake the doses out, trying not to take too much too early, in fear of wakening sweating coldly with a gasp of terror in the middle of the night with nothing left.

But I'm OK now. An end is in sight. (It has to be...)

OK and now for some music:~
ELGAR: ENIGMA VARIATIONS; NIMROD
Conducted by Daniel Baremboyne
This most famous "variation" was dedicated to Elgar's best friend, a German chap by the name Jaeger which means "hunter" hence Nimrod the "mighty hunter before the LORD" of Genesis. This most "English" of pieces is beautiful and stately in equal measure.

Lousy Weekend

NO I HAVEN'T LITERALLY GOT NITS OR ANYTHING... (not this year. Though I did catch them REPEATEDLY several years ago from the local bedredlocked, caravan-dwelling tattooed and pierced "new age travelling" "crusties".... They might even have been body lice then, only I washed my clothes far to frequently (like every single DAY!! ever to find out...)

NO I AM MISERABLE. Because I HATE METHADONE. Spent all day experiencing flashes of fever. It was a horribly clammy day but most of the time I felt like I was outside in thickest fog in shirtsleeves. When actually I was indoors with the heater on full blast. Then suddenly I'd break into the most perverse overheated sweats, so bad I had to strip off nearly naked. Then I was freezing again...

I'd done well over 100mg of methadone which is supposedly more than enough. Until I found an extra 20mg in the back of my fridge I thought I was going to go nuts...

Now suddenly the weather, from being so unbearably horrible I couldn't face going outside, feels remarkably clement. And all because of this magic methadone inside me...

My keys are NOWHERE to be found. Yes I've checked fridge, freezer, toilet, shower, behind, inside everything including shoes, clothes everything (as I said they were deliberately bulked out to MAKE THEM EASY TO FIND... yet to no avail...) I don't have spares as the landlord insists on frequently changing the locks. Which is a good thing really. But not in a situation like this.

No I am NOT IN A GOOD MOOD TODAY. The junkie life is one coated in Teflon. There's so little to hang on to, the drugs become everything.

Being on heroin is like being a poor man shut out in the rain gazing longingly in to a posh restaurant. All that separates you is one thin plate glass. And yet that glass is everything. As soon as you take the heroin you're on the other side of that window and so smug you feel you'll never be rained on again (though you know it you can barely ever feel it)... and so it goes on.

Oh roll on tomorrow. I really want to get some gear.

THESE ARE MY 2 FAVOURITE BOND THEMES

~ From Russia with Love (film intro without vocal)



~ From Russia with Love (stills montage with vocal)



~ Goldfinger (film intro with vocal)

Lost Keys!

HOW ON EARTH THIS CAN HAPPEN I've no idea: I lost my keys IN MY ROOM while I was asleep. The door was locked (but not the window!~ aha!!) Surely they can only have slipped down the side of the bed. They had an NA "one day clean" fob and lots of tinkly jangly things like a revolving coin-head thing from Cancun, Mexico (where I've never been) in other words having lost them too many times I weighed them down a lot and made them as jangly as possible...

... two days later and having thrown the entire room up in the air there's STILL NO SIGN OF THEM!!

What on earth am I going to do? I'm reduced to just leaving my room unlocked when I go out.

The front door isn't as much hassle. Basically you just let it click behind you, then when you want to come in again, gently press on the door (or just sneeze when the wind's right) and wahey!! Door comes barging in!!

ABBA: TAKE A CHANCE ON ME
This song has royal heritage. It's what King Hussein of Jordan sang when he was wooing Queen Noor... (true!)

Useless Urine Screen

TALK ABOUT saving money and chucking the baby out with the bathwater: the drug service has new state-of-the-art creditcard-style urine tests. You pee into a cup, remove the end of the card and dip five little litmus-like dippers into the cup. Within a minute a "result" is recorded for cocaine, opiates, methadone, benzodiazepines and buprenorphine (Subutex).

Today's test had me down as a major coke fiend, borderline methadone drinker (even though I'd had it all that morning), negligable heroin user, benzo-fiend (benzos are things like Valium/sleeping pills and I've not touched them for ages). As for the buprenorphine I had again borderline used that would have put me in horrible withdrawals on top of methadone.

NB it was not the same test illustrated to top left, but along those "lines"...

So I walked out of there scratching my head until I realized I'd drunk so much tea before I came in that my urine was dilute enough to score "negligable" on everything. Where on earth the high coke reading came from I don't know. I did the test twice and both readings were identical.

I've invented a genius "Chinese" stirfry. I know none of my cooking really is authentic Chinese, especially the curry. My aim is for TAKEAWAY cooking: not food as actually eaten in China (with dead dogs/crows/etc etc)....

Anyway, for this you boil up long grain rice and store in fridge.
Stirfry one medium mushroom chopped extra-thin.
Stirfry two or three baby corn per medium portion per person again chopped extra thin.
Add about a desertspoon tinned sweetcorn per person. Fry all this. Add the magic ingredients (salt and MSG) and a bit of pepper. Voila: A MASTERPIECE!!!

Abba's Agnetha: Sometimes When I'm Dreaming
Thanks Mizpeh

Woke Up Screaming

I HATE SLEEPING sometimes. It hits me like a disease and I get too much of it. Times and commitments go out the window as unconsciousness takes over for hour after hour after hour.

The night before last I finally got into bed properly and lay down. Almost right away I was dreaming. Blazingly vivid stuff.

As the night went on so my dreaming got more and more disturbing until I literally did wake up screaming ~ LOUDLY. And woke up the person in the room next door.

What on earth they thought was the matter I shall never know (I'm not going to ask!)

From the Sun newspaper: swimming with tigers ...

Spread Out Thin

I'VE ACHIEVED MY CHINESE CURRYMAKING AMBITIONS FOR NOW. Next week I start on purchasing haldi (turmeric) and other huge kilogram £1 packs of spices (well why pay 80p for a tenth as much?) and concocting my own curry powder: starting ingredients shall be fenugreek, ground coriander, ground star anise, allspice etc etc.

I should be extremely happy. Eating Chinese takeaway every day three meals a day. But apart from that I still feel extremely flat and spread out thin between it all.

I'm well into spices. Last time I made beef stew I counted up the spices, herbs and those in the condiments I'd used and reckoned up 21++ including cayenne, pimento, tamarinds...

My stew recipe goes a heaped desert spoon of mild curry powder (or a mixture of all curry powders and jerk seasoning amounting to a heaped desert spoon) and a like amount of paprika. Make sure there's not too much chili in the mix as heat is not what you're after. Add about five or so desert spoons Lea & Perrins (HP sauce would also do). Tomato ketchup adds any missing sweetness. Usually I grab sprigs of wild herbs if I can (rosemary and sage). If these are missing add about a desert spoon of traditional parsely-sage-rosemary-marjoram-style mixed herbs. Add black pepper at the end as this only cooks out (so I've found). Tomato ketchup does very well to pep up any missing sweetness...

Today I finally got fed up of chicken curry and bought spinaci e ricotta tortelloni. These to eat with garden peas (the only veg I've got left) and heaps of grated cheese...

The landlord came round earlier and annoyed me. Leaving the front door open (why do all landlords and workmen insist in doing this? As if to leave their stamp upon the property "we're doing some work here, honest guv!" and banging and crashing at every turn. I hid in the shower and fled the premises as soon as I was able.

I found a wonderful non-cigarette-burnt black knitted top fur-lined. Unfortunately it's size S so I wonder if it will fit. If not I might wear it indoors. It has to go through the de-flea-ing process (ie the washing machine). I'm terrified of 6-legged intruders after my mites-&-scabies cockroaches-&-bedbugs encounters of times past...

Sorry for not having been in touch with any of you all. As I said I have continuing internet problems. All I want is an account at a caff that has reasonably fast speeds (yeah right) and does cheap deals (hmmm...)

My hamsters are keeping very well. I hope you all are. Take care!

In the news:
The Sun: World Exclusive ~ Madonna and Guy Divorce!

Found a Curry Sauce Mix...

I'VE FOUND a fantastic Chinese Curry Sauce mix. Got it from a Chinese market stall. It's the complete shebang: wheatflour and coconut paste included, just add water and there you go. The spice mix is almost exactly right. (All takeaways vary; this could pass 100% as takeaway-authentic...) The orangey colour is the same as that illustrated: Chinese curry is never brown... The pack cost me about £1 for 10 portions, which means I'm spending 10p a time, rather than £1 a cupfull as the Chinese demand...

Coconut paste was the missing ingredient I suspected was in there but was unsure about. Chinese curry has no overt coconut flavour, though it does have onion and garlic (both in my industrially-bought mix) and these kind of tail into the mellowness of the coconut and the further smoothness of salted-up MSG. It's a work of genius that I got precisely right last night with a mushroom curry (no ££ for chicken!!)... today I'm off to get a pre-roasted chicken (so cheap it's not worth buying the salmonella'd uncooked variety) that along with mushrooms, onions and peas shall make a fantastic curry (Godwilling). Why peas are always in the mix I shall never know; but they are. Up and down the country Chinese chicken curry means chicken-onions-peas (and mushrooms if you're lucky. Or so many mushrooms there's barely any chicken if yours is a credit-crunch curry...)

I was toying last week with the thought of coconut for my curries but didn't know what form to buy. Dessicated is a bit too 1970s British (add boiled eggs and sultanas: yuck!) Coconut milk powder would probably make a wonderful starting stock. I've seen coconut cream or paste before but last week it was beyond the glimpses of my eyes and so I went without... I did get garlick paste (v useful for nongarlic eaters like me, who leave it in the cupboard until it sprouts...) Plus an authentic light soy sauce brand that comes in a pretty squat container with Chinese writing down the side and actually does taste of soy (unlike the vulgar market leader Amoy).

My robbies were running around like a mini donkey-derby last night after plunging into the pineshavings-filled diggery. They tilt up to a near vertical angle and disappear right in, each following the trail of the other. Sometimes great caves are formed below in which they pause sometimes for a roborovski-picnic. (Wise animals, Itchy keeps her pouches packed nearly all the time, which I always assumed was a size-adding measure to counter her being the tiniest of all the trotters.)

I've still been very depressed and heavy limbed and mind-crushed, which is the main reason not to have been online posting very much. Well I'm back now so HELLO HELLO again!!

PS why am I so obsessed by my curry sauce chase?

This from my commments should explain what/how:~

Liz said...
Good grief, gledwood, are you still on the hunt for Chinese curry sauce?!!!

Sorry, I've not been by for a while. I've come in via Robyn in Australia again. Seems to work well this way.

xx
12 October 2008 20:48

Gledwood said...
Found an industrial version (just add water and stir continuously)... but want to know PRECISELY WHICH SPICES and to be able to make from scratch. I hate feeling in the pocket of the industrial multinational food business and am sure Chinese takeaway chefs don't use industrial premade mixes! I'm sure they would know precisely which spices to add and in what quantities and that's what I wish to do...
13 October 2008 11:13

The Weights On My Mind

I'VE SPENT THE LAST FEW DAYS in a sour mood. (No heroin.) Weighed down by 1001 thoughts and half-meditations. None of them nice...

As the nights draw in so does my sleep. I did twelve hours straight last night and that was with no chemical assistance. No heroin and certainly no chillpills. Methadone only as prescribed in regular measured doses...

... How I wished I could have stayed unconscious all day; my every thought pained me.

Funny how several months ago when I told my drugs worker why I really was depressed ("look at the state the world's in") she poopooed my observations. Now look at the state of things. Two retail banks have collapsed in Britain (Northern Rock and Bradford & Bingley, formerly two of our most respected "mutual" building societies and both victims of the trend for lending out money against borrowings on the international money markets rather than customers' deposits).

The nation of Iceland has very nearly gone bankrupt and a major internet bank of theirs tanked last week. The unlike the British and most European governments where similar things have happened, the Icelandic government have guaranteed only savings accounts held by their own nationals. Which means hundreds of millions of pounds of British individuals' money in "Ice-Save" was in jeapordy until our Government stepped in and froze the bank's UK assets, guaranteeing every penny of saver's accounts even over the £50,000 limit. Which doesn't necessarily belong to "rich people" but can equally well be cash from life insurance policies, the sale of homes or, in business simply a month's salaries bill. Local councils potentially lost over £100 million and charities £100 million+ more. It's absolute chaos. The Northern Irish political leader the Rev'd Ian Paisley stood up in Parliament and said we should pray to God for mercy and forgiveness. Parliament didn't laugh but refused to bat an ear.

The End Is Nigh! I tell you. THE END IS NIGH!!

And no: I'm not joking...

Chinese Curry Sauce Secret-Cracking Progress...

GOOD NEWS on my protracted search for an authentic Chinese takeaway-style curry sauce. As dumped over chicken curry mix vegetable fry rice or sold in a pot with chips (which (for you Americans) are a chunkier version of "fries")...

Basically I just had to find the right curry powder to start with and the nearest Chinese shop has a good one only it's far too heavy on the chili for my preference. Indian curry mix will not do. West Indian is better, though the "jerk chicken spices" I have are way too heavy on cinnamon plus a bit too coriander-y...

I fried an onion in butter (great money-saving tip for those on dole: buy cheapest unsalted butter instead of frying oil when in desperation (you can't spread frying oil on bread...))... added a mug of water plus 4 or 5 teaspoons Chinese curry powder (cannot name brand: all in Chinese) this I threw in the blender and whizzed for 2 mins on max.

But this "curry" that I'd painstakingly compared to that of the local Chinese takeaway last night by tastetesting their curry plus my curry powder (a near perfect match)... man! It was GROSS! Seemingly something of EVERYTHING was missing. I was in despair as to how to fix it.

Until I remembered my "Chinese salt" this is 50-50 Monosodium Glutamate (MSG) and ordinary table salt. A flat teaspoon into this mugful of curry sauce worked wonders I'd seen only heroin do before. (E.g. the wonder of turning me from a human block of ice in agitated despair into a peachy even-breathing human actually feeling like a "being" not a mistake... anyhow...

The curry sauce still needed thickening:~

So then I gradually added value self-raising flour by the half-tsp (again more multipurpose than cornflour, which is barely any better for thickening (so I'm told) and definitely doesn't make as good dumplings as Value Selfraising... thereby thickening curry sauce. Fished out the worst of the inevitable lumps. It was still lumpy though. So I shoved it yet again in the blender and wahey! Curry sauce of a perfect consistency! I must've added about 4 tsps.

The only problem was my specific Chinese currymix was too heavy on chili as I said though the remainder of the spicemix was bang-on correct. Do not use Indian spices or supermarket "mild/medium/whatever curry powder" this will only give a Madras-like flavour which is wrong. You must get Chinese curry mix, which is lacking ingredients, but I can tell you has a distinct whiff of star anise (which you'll never find in Indian curry powder) ... and the MSG is ESSEMTIAL. Suddenly from a less than amateurish failure of a sauce you get precisely the right warmth and heat and mysterious oniony lingering flavour (which is more down to MSG than actual onions in the mix)...

tra la la la!!

I'm Fine

I'M FINE.

Just a bit depressed.

No overdoses, no great trauma. (I know it sets a bad impression every time I'm off for a few days. I do try not to do it but that's easier said than done...)

No internet account. Fell out with man in caff over his lack of protection which keeps shutting the computer down when I do something as simple as trying to browse youtube. (He thinks I'm doing something weird. I say well what's this? And show a page I was suddenly teleported to ~ absolutely blank. And blah blah blah and so on.

Heavy limbs. Heavy mind. Trash all over my abode (they say one's living quarters mirror one's mind, in which case I'm an intellectual rubbish dump...)

And so on and so on. All hamsters are OK, including Pingpong, who did a 12-hour wheel-rambling session on Saturday night...

Sorry not to have been in touch; it's all due to factors beyond my control.

Soon as I get another proper internet account with broadband that actually works (a great problem near my house, where the telephone network seems not to have changed since 1946) I shall go back to normal: ie posting banal trifles 'most every single day!

Constant Craving

FOR CHINESE TAKEAWAY or for...?

Beef-ginger-spring onions mixed vegetable fried rice.

Heroin.

People say Chinese food only leaves you wanting more... and strangely enough the same thing about "gear" ~ so what else can I say..!?!

KD Lang: Constant Craving

Breaking Up In The Night

YESTERDAY AFTERNOON I VERY NEARLY HAD AN ARGUMENT with one of my (surviving) best friends. It was over money for drugs. I got the drugs, went home with them and took them and slept early through most of the evening and most of the night until BBC World Service handed over to Radio 4 on the FM frequency then I was awake for the day.

I had woken in the night with my mind falling apart again. My head had illustrated the bleakness behind my eyeballs with post-apocalyptic-type manga cartoons, mostly black and white but good enough to capture. I wish I was able to capture these things.

Then the day began. My hamsters were beside me on the floor stashed beneath two giant long tubes the length of their domain. They looked exceedingly cute hiding behind them...

Last night I found some really weird Chinese food on the pavement, the apparent result of someone moving house. Not Chinese takeaway, I mean the actual oddities a Chinese person might store in their kitchen cupboards. "Woodberry and wild date tea" (or whatever it was). Sweet lemon soap-like stuff for drinking. And some oddly sacheted Chinese breakfast cereal that I eventually stopped eating dry and eventually made up with hot water as per instructions, preparing a highly palatable soya milky wheat broth (has to be tasted to be believed). Genius people those Chinese.

Before that I'd been perusing the takaway menu, longing for ginger-fried beef strips with spring onions and mixed vegetable fried rice and satay chicken with curried vegetables and mixed vegetable fried rice... I'll shut up now or I'll make myself hungry again...(!)

ANOTHER (home-made) video for Randy Crawford's "Almaz":~

I think this is a really beautiful tune...

No official promo was produced for this song, released 1986 in the UK only where it got to number 4.

The real Almaz was Randy Crawford's best friend, so the story goes, and this song written, recorded and released to mark the occasion of Almaz's wedding...

Will It Ever Stop?

BLUBBLUBLBUBLUBLUBBBbbbbbb.... Crying all the way home. Raining my own thunderstorm.

I often think people's lives are like storms. All that clash-banging and passion and fireworks bright enough to light up the night.

But it's all over, a bit of wreckage aside, the world slips calmly back into place almost as if none of it ever happened.

Which again begs the point: why?

Why is any one of us born, just to die again?

And why do we spend so much of our lives just hurting others when we could make piece and mend walls and make it BETTER??

SKIN: Nothing But

Crying in the Street

I WEPT OPENLY IN THE STREET TODAY... what's the world coming to?

I saw Lucky's "brother" (not by blood)/former lover/best friend (well as "best" a friend as many of us will ever have) she treated him just like a brother, moaning on and on about various shortcomings at various times but I'm sure she loved him.

I saw him coming from behind a pillar near the library. Ignoring the urge to dodge behind I faced up to him and told the truth I could not face going to a funeral with a vicar who never knew her and people I didn't know.

There was no vicar (one relief). What can you say? This is a woman who was sorely addicted to drugs since childhood (as she tells it). Made some dreadful mistakes in life, but never willfully hurt anybody...??

Still I could not bear the whole emotional vary-go-round of it all. And all this time up until today I had managed NOT TO CRY and then it happened. In full view in a public square. How typical.

The best friend/brother figure showed me a card of Lucky aged about 2 or 3 drest in ballet tutu looking very young and innocent. The sort of picture that makes you look at the child and think, "boy what does life do to people?"

And that is that.

KATIE MELUA ~ NINE MILLION BICYCLES IN BEIJING



MADONNA ~ YOU'LL SEE

Funeral

TODAY WAS MY FRIEND LUCKY'S FUNERAL. I did not go. Was feeling funereal enough at home with not the right clothes, not ready when I was unexpectedly offered a lift there with less than an hour's notice. And not wanting to face up to her children, who don't know me (though I met her daughter and remember her, I doubt she recalls me).

I miss Lucky. I've lost a friend and a sanctuary.

Every now and then I'd spend a long afternoon at her flat, which is way up in the sky. The clock on the wall ticked out time in slow-time, Lucky-time. It always seemed a long, long while but in a good way.

O well; as they say: all good things come to an end.

PS the funeral was delayed over a month in order to conduct an autopsy or coroner's enquiry type thing. I've no idea what they found... All this time she was in a great steel draw in a body-fridge.

That isn't the actual grave (got cremated anyway) but it's what I'd like my grave to look like. I want roses planted on me. If I get burned and anyone wants the ashes, they can have them. Otherwise I'd rather get scattered to the four winds...

AMY WINEHOUSE: BACK TO BLACK


Amy Winehouse Back to Black - Click here for this week’s top video clips

N-TRANCE: STAYIN ALIVE



RANDY CRAWFORD: SOMEDAY I'LL FLY AWAY



Tell me, do you like this, or do you think it's too sentimental
RANDY CRAWFORD: ALMAZ

Caught Piping

POP STAR GEORGE MICHAEL has been caught misbehaving yet again in a public convenience. (Surely an inconvenience for him.) According to vague BBC radio news he was captured and cautioned in possession of "a class A and a class C drug".

I bet it's crack, I thought to myself.

And cheery-mcDeary, wasn't I bang on right?


Everybody who is into drugs seems to be doing crack these days.

A decade ago cocaine was approaching a peak in popularity to which it had gently climbed over the preceeding decade. When I first encountered drugs cocaine was still a dinner party drug for those rich enough not to know what to do with their money, a drug for rock stars, and was often uttered in the same breath as heroin. Heroin and cocaine. It was a hard drug. Less disrespectable than heroin, but not something one would idly brag about snorting, certainly not in mixed company.

Within half a decade the situation had changed to the point that coke ("charlie" as the new lower-class users referred to it) had become a posh version of speed. A man with and on coke felt he was "the man" and any shame surrounding the substance, at least among the weekend clubbing fraternity had evaporated. Nearly all of these users sniffed the drug. Crack was still considered scummy. A "black drug" (at least in America). Something desperate addicts might be glimpsed smoking on shadowy inner-city back stairwells (as I did a couple of times).

Crack, of course, is only cocaine mixed with baking soda, "washed" (with water for it to float in) under some heat source (e.g. a cig lighter flame). An oil forms atop the spoon. Fished out, a molten white substance quickly hardens and the so-called rocks are produced.

These can be shoved on a pipe which requires cigarette ash or some squiggly wire gauze as illustrated to suspend the melting coke allowing nearly 100% of the dosage to reach the lungs and hence the user's brain. Unlike snorty coke which comes on over five minutes or so, this of course hits the nervous system almost all at once in a super-compressed rush so powerful it can sometimes be heard as an ear-ringing echoing altered state. A very large pipe even blinds you with a snow-blind light in an infinite space (very close to an epileptic seizure, and crack can induce seizure disorders in those previously well). And then a high so immense it feels like surfing a double tidal-wave.

No wonder it's so very addictive.

As I say, crack is only a different form of cocaine, hence many a nose-up user has graduated, from boredom, curiosity (or nose-rotting desperation: don't forget ~ years of snorting eventually dissolve the separator of the nostrils) has "graduated" on to this intensely potent form of the drug. It's more widely available than ever before (from dealers who often retail grass as well). With Amy Winehouse and others widely known to be smokers any remaining stigma is vanishing. And years after the doom and gloom "crack crimewave to hit Britain" headlines it's actually happening.

I have little else to say on the subject. Coke never really got me until I picked up a taste for the so-called speedballs or snowballs, when it's mixed with heroin and injected intravenously as one hit: and this was some years into my hard-drug-using "career"... If the relative dosage is right this feels like an incredibly sugared-up version of heroin, flushing into the brain almost double the dopamine of a crack hit alone...

Highly, highly addictive...

Read the full News of the World article, George Michael had crack in the toilet

PS What's he doing in that Faith poster of his? Wondering whether his deodorant's up to the job..?

Inspiration Strikes (again!)

A THUNDERBOLT OF INSPIRATION has struck me yet again.

Another book!

The story hasn't come in its entirety, yet much of the set-up has. And this one's a children's novel. Highly ideal on the wearied hands for typing as it's only going to be 15-25,000 words.

All enthusiasm for works describing (a) my own life, or (b) drug use or addiction of any kind has deserted me.

This one's a comedy that I can write utterly naturally in a style all my own ~ on my own level (ooer!) ~ without dumbing down.

I feel I can speak to children pretty much on my own level. This is for the absolute classic age of children's fiction: the 8-12s. Practically all the classics of children's literature were written for children in this age range. The tale, as currently conceived, is in the tradition of Spike Milligan's Bad Jelly the Witch (click here to read its entirety) and most of Roald Dahl...

So now I've two books on my hands and I am indeed going for both of them.

So wish me luck, please, as this amounts to nearly 200,000 words of keyboard clattering plus two great slabs of A4 500s per copy of both!

No delay! I'm starting today.

Please wish me luck because I'll need it.

PS I'm being sued for nonpayment of poll tax. Council tax whatever the merchant bankers at the council call it now...

PPS Have a nice weekend, see yous all Monday. No more computer time till then!

Here's a video from Seaworld Helsinki, purloined from the Ailema4ever blog

Itchy's Covered in Fur

THE SONG GOES:
Itchy's covered in fur;
Itchy's covered in fur!
Eee-aye-a-dairy-mouse,
Itchy's covered in fur!!



I cleaned out Pingpong (my Chinese hammy; not to be confused with Pingping, smallest man in the world who's Mongolian Chinese...) Man! The amount of goodies he's packed in his pouches and stashed all over the place! It all had to go. And clean food, clean bedding and clean litter were provided in their stead. Pingping liked none of this and spent the next two hours pinging furiously forward on his wheel in an attempt to run away from this horrible newness...

The Roborovski family look more like mini gremlins than ever before, tiny yawning, peering, pinging trotters. They've chewed the entirety of the available blue chalk stick; have now graduated to lilac, a colour they seem to nibble more avidly than ever before!

Come and look at this amazing reflexional fir photograph at Dorrien's (who never replies to me)...