Sparkly Saturday

IT'S A MOST SPARKLY SATURDAY MORNING. The DIY-buckets-&-mops shop across the road is gleaming. People promenade past in summery clothes not smoking cigarettes. The sky is a pale British azure (it rarely ever goes tropical dark blue in these northern climes ...) we've all been up since 5am in my house, at which time I went out to buy alcohol (oops! Honestly I forget that "normal" people don't drink white cyder for breakfast sometimes ...) at which point I bumped into my quiet housemate Elvis (who I've never had cause to write about really) and Matran the Ratman on the stairs. Matran scowled at me. I nodded and, if I had been wearing one, would have tipped my hat at a jaunty angle as I swept past. I do not speak to him at all. Not one word. Because when he last spoke to me he said "oi!" instead of my name... hey-ho...

I want tropical fishies. I want them now. That's what I did last time I went "clean" (on buprenorphine/Subutex) ... so I need them again if it's to happen all over ... Also I want cardinal tetras, a Borneo highland loach and one of those mad tropical frogs like I had last time. (Click the words for film clips.) My one fear has always been cockroaches: we had severe infestation at one point and I know from the side of the can that pyrethrum/permethrin does not mix with fish ... it says "highly dangerous to aquatic life" ... "cover fish bowls and tanks before use" ~ and because we still have straggly remnants of the roach invasion upon us, I wouldn't trust my landlord not to come in when I'm out and spray the tank down ~ even out of spite. I suppose if he did I could take water samples and get him "busted" by the RSPCA (anti-animal cruelty charity) ... but that is shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted ... I don't know. Has anyone got some advice?

Films of the day: baby chinchillas
and
Dust bath chinchilla with white poodle

Sleep All Day

SORRY I DON'T KNOW WHAT GOT INTO ME. I took loads of methadone at about 5 o'clock in the morning. This enabled me to sleep till three. (It's not that methadone makes me particularly "drowsy" ... what it does mean is that if I take enough I don't get woken up by tinsy little withdrawals ... Well that's the only way I can explain it.) When I did get up I felt horrible and sweaty. It is a high summer's day. Well it was. My brain feels so wuzzy; I've no idea why ... Sorry I didn't post earlier I always try to post daily. When I got up just now to be honest I thought it was too late to use this computer ... Does everybody like my new blog? You can click here and see furry backflips ...

What's in a Vision? Doherty. Argos. Etc

RE MY VISION IN THAT CARRIER BAG, someone pointed out that it could be a message of encouragement (so typical of me to see things in a negative light ...) maybe I misinterpreted the kindly smile as a smirk ... I don't know ... well I wasn't expecting to see a face looking back at me there, was I~??

Re Pete Doherty: I know I promised to write something about him today, didn't I? Well what's to write? Basically, since that dream of being with Pete in rehab and those wasps the size of budgies buzzing back and forth into the wall, I've seen Pete Doherty as a kindly soul. In the dream he was friendly and not an idiot at all. In this country he is seen as an idiot. Not only does he have an idiotic face, but he keeps getting caught repeatedly with drugs ... how on earth does he manage that? His face it too recognizable and they know he's going to be carrying, I expect ... Anyway, now, having read his poor, bedraggled, heartfelt plea in the Daily Mirror, and having seen how articulate he actually seems to be I take pity on the poor guy. I hope he does manage to get clean someday. Currently he's fitted with an antiheroin implant (naltrexone). But you can only get these from expensive private clinics at present ...

Well I've made a big dent in that £20 note (didn't give it to the dealer though! Wahey!!) ... If only I'd had £24 I saw something I really wanted. It's a DAB digital radio from Argos. (Click here to see it.) At £24 that's by far the cheapest I've ever seen such devices for sale ...

I have aquaria on the blinkin' brain. Dunno why as I've not a hope of setting one up where I currently live ... That's a massive reason why I want to get my life together and move out ...

OK here's two more "clips of the day":

Black and White. I'm not saying any more. Just click it. It's so cute ...

Wayward Son's cute little doggie Moxie

***

DAB radio is a locally broadcast digital radio (it doesn't use satellites). If you're interested in getting satellite radio in Europe, it is available from the Hotbird satellite. You can get BBC World Service etc ... Click here for more info. ("Satellite radio" btw means you can listen anywhere. The sets are portable, but the signals come from above. (Signals are powerful enough that a dish isn't needed.) It is not like radio via SKY TV, which (of course) comes through the TV set ...)

Resist Resist Resist/Vision in a Carrier Bag/Amazing Bunny

RESIST RESIST RESIST. I must resist. I have £20 in my pocket and do not wish to score. Except I do. If I do I will obtain 1. a smug sense of security, knowing the dealer is coming. 2. a smug sense of security knowing I have heroin. 3. enough heroin for 2 or 3 "hits" ... meaning 2 or 3 times I can spend half an hour looking everywhere on my damaged, bruised-up, bloodstained body for some section of vein willing to take a gloopy, acidified brown heroin hit (which is a hobby in itself these days) knowing that 4. if I do actually get it in a vein that holds it (instead of blowing, leaking or simply missing - there's not much by way of veins left these days I may experience for about 30 seconds to 2 minutes a pleasant warm feeling of the drug in my system and 5... supposedly i will feel better for that. Except most probably I won't feel that amazing. If anything (and if I let myself stay still) I might well fall into a dull, dopey sleep that feels no more special than natural non-drug-induced sleep... so in other words I am addicted to scoring, far more than to the drugs themselves. What am I going to do?

Oh yeah. My vision in a carrier bag.

Here's what happened. I woke up early. Nothing doing (it was about 6 or 7 a.m.) It was light outside. Ahead of me was a black carrier bag on the side. I looked at it again and a face appeared on the side of the bag. A ghostly "Jesus"-like face. (At least it reminded me of Jesus as portrayed by Roman Catholic/etc iconography.) The face remained steadily there, staring back at me. I looked away and back. Still there. Then it smiled at me in an awful smirk. So I looked away again. And when I next looked back all that remained of this vision was the random pattern of white light reflecting on a crumpled, crinkly, black plastic bag ...

OK here's YOUR vision of the day. Do click on this one, for it's fantastic:
Amazing Bunny Rabbit Letter Opener

I DO USE STUPID EXPRESSIONS SOMETIMES. "Glass bubble domesticated bliss":~ what the hell is that meant to be? All I was trying to say was the ivy's trailing out the front door (so to speak) and looks charming as a Chelsea bun.

Well I'm in the cybercafe. People are shouting on the phones at the back. (International calls.) Some of the people who use those phones don't seem to have grasped the fact that the telephone carries your voice. I'm sure some of these people could actually be heard in Kyrgizstan/Moldova/Myanmar/South Africa/wherever they're phoning ...

Why am I posting this? ... my mind wanders as I speak..!

Apple-Shaped Terranium

I JUST BOUGHT AN APPLE-SHAPED "TERRANIUM" FULL OF PLANTS. Because I had £10 and didn't want to spend it on drugs... It cost £9.99 from Sainsbury's Homebase and was the last one left. I did look desperately about for a more picturesque one. Mine was last actually for a good reason: because the plants are overgrowing it. I have no idea what the plants are or what I'm to do with them re watering. There's one pale green coloured succulent and some ivy (ok I do know what 2 of them are). But the one at the back that really is overgrowing I've no idea... actually what am I saying: it looks quite a lot like the thing I bought my Mum for mothers' day. Big serrated dark green leaves. Little pink and white budlike flowers. (They still look budlike even though they've opened.) This one is very soon going to have to be excavated out. Then I might turn this drop-shaped or apple-shaped (it's a blown glass droplet with top stem and side hole; all one piece) thing into a cactus-ery. Ruth: do you know what I'm meant to do with it? They've sprinkled "decorative" orange woodshavings upon the topsoil which is going to make it mighty hard to take out the back plant and still make it look the same. But hey the orange stuff looks pretty tacky anyhow. Maybe I will just mix it in the soil. (Or is that bad?) Ruth is a flowering expert. Ruth do you know what to do..??? Tell you what, it would look lovely with Chinese Mousey pottering about inside. One day, when I get my digital camera working again (needs fresh battery charger) I shall instigate Chinese Mouse photo shoot inside glass planted-up teardrop. And if any photos turn out OK I promise I shall learn how to and post one (or more) up.

I only went in the bleedin' Homebase bc I was so bloody depressed and didn't know what to do... it is a "gloriously" hot day but oppressive and very sunny and blueskied. And police sirens still wailing as I speak. And trucks trundling past. Does anyone know that Stephen King story Children of the Corn? He sums up so mightily the feeling of being lost in the hush wind blowing rushes-like endless sunshining lost and strangely sinister seas of the corn ... I used to have a whole volume of his short stories that I only read when I was feeling (drug) "sick" ... Now I've managed to lose the lot, which is a shame. As although King is blabbery I do have the attention span most of the time for his stories ... (My attention span was genetically modified from a Scottish highland gnat's. Maybe Gnat King Coal's. Or something.)

Which reminds me talking of bizarre things I am (re)reading Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason which is the Queen of Chicklit. Most chicklit (at least the bits that fell open on my perusal at Waterstone's) seems to be about bra sizes and premenstrual inconvenience. At least Bridget Jones is genuinely witty. I like the Renee Zellwegger film version when Colin Firth discovers her diaries compromising revelations open to the world... she sees what he must have read. Swears. Scurries to put on shoes. Runs after him into the snow (this was computer-enhanced digisnow btw)... returns distrought to flat feeling Colin Firth gone forever... only for him to return saying "I noticed your book was full so I've bought you a new one" (probably from Smythson's of Bond Street.)

Right I am about to venture back into the bright sunshiny day to plonk new "vase" home.

Second song of the day yesterday was meant to have been The Verve: Drugs Don't Work, but couldn't get crosslink up (delay between posting and it appearing in blogue) on time.

Monday Bloody Monday

THANKFULLY THE DAY IS NEAR OVER. I once bought a hamster when I was depressed to try and cheer me up. It was a female tubby golden Syrian mesocricetus auratus. I called her Tubbemer. She did not cheer me up. In fact I don't think she ever really liked me. We never got on as well as me and Pandable (who looked just like Tubbemer but was a boy.) Pandable was a wonderhammy. Slept solidly all day. Woke like clockwork at evening time. Got up. Washed ears. Did weez and pooze in corner. (Golden hamsters always use the same corner as toilet. Dwarf ones are more scruffy and just wee and poo anywhere.) Once Pandable was solidly awake he hit the wheel. I had to buy him a special enormous free-standing rat wheel as all hamster-"sized" ones were too small. He could not stretch out and run full-pelt. He used to run this rat wheel literally from dusk until dawn and woe betide you if it got blocked with sawdust or toppled over. He went nuts charging back and forth amongst the tank until you got up and fixed it. I read somewhere that the "average" hamster runs five miles a night. Well Pandable was a superhammy in that case as he did eight miles every night! I know this because we attached a yellow label to one end of the wheel so we could count rpms. These we multiplied, an average distance per minute timesed by the eight hours or whatever it was he spent rambling on this bloody thing. He barely ever got off it. Except sometimes to run a circuit of the tank and swiftly get back on again. Even if you let him out on the floor and put the wheel in the corner of the room, he'd just run straight up to it and take up rambling on that ... bizarre creature. When I took him to my Dad's house in a mouse cage with a smaller hamster wheel he spent the entire week in a foul mood, angrily gnawing at the mouse-bars and doing pooze on the new wheel in protest ... sorry I am rabblitting on and on about hamsters I know I should not. I am so depressed and down and exhausted though. I am planning to stop all drugs all together in the near future and want to cut down the methadone and come off. I know this will make me feel mentally dreadful. But the time has come to feel dreadful without heroin-methadone in the mix. You know that saying by The Verve? The Drugs Don't Work ..? See? They really don't. I don't know. My friend Ivy (from the internet) keeps saying she is going to be an escort. I don't know what to say to her. I just told her be careful of warts and don't let the punters wheedle you into dispensing with a condom ... I don't know what else to say. Everyone in my house hates me because they thought I was leaving. I want to go. But you know the saying "better the devil you know" ... that is really hanging me up. Also I don't want to move too far from this area. I would have to bus down every day to the methadone chemist's for one thing ... what can I do? What shall I do? I don't know. Monday! Bad mood bloody Monday!!

***

Go to http://pinguindude.blogspot.com for a bullying story

Mournday Monday

I HAVE TO POST SOMETHING BECAUSE IT'S A NEW DAY AND I'M HERE. Not in the mood=what do I say? I tried to make biscuits last night. The resulting slop was horrible. Also I do not have an oven (only hotplates). So I attempted cooking these on tinfoil atop that. Bad move. I am in a bad mood because that Matran (who doesn't officially even live in our house) had the cheek to speak to me threateningly. I didn't say one word back. In retrospect I think this was a good move. One day he will get himself in real trouble and I won't be the one wasting my energy on him. I don't really have much else to say. Evilstein said he was coming round today. He did not. Well not when I was there. As I said I have a birdcage. Maybe I should find some birds to put in it? Little ones like zebra finches. Also they don't make annoying noises. I once had a budgie in my room. I love budgies but the chirping drove me to distraction ... Yeah, zebra finches it is. Of course I may not do this... but on the other hand why bloody not?

Right. Song of the day: We're in Heaven - DJ Sammy version.
Or click for original Brian Adams version ...

Sunday Morning

AN UNNUMBERED HOUR OF THE NIGHT. BBC World Service is blaring. I've got back into the habit of sleeping living diarrhoeaing with the radio on. Which is odd, as in previous weeks I've lived with blankness. No radio. No TV. (We're top priority, so I'm told, in the TV Licensing authority's "London CRACKDOWN". Our home shall be investigated. Ooo, matron!

What has filled the gap? Books. But I must advise against Agatha Christie's At Bertram's Hotel. The climax is so very implausible; so very, very un-true-to-life it's a wonder the slim volume did not go flying out my window once the last page was finally reached. Miss Marple doesn't even solve the crime ~ so where is the point in that. I haven't felt quite so cheated by a novel in a long time.

Swynable (the Chinese Mouse) is angrily sleeping. After spending most of the night in mousey birdcage prison. Irritatedly nibbling at the bars and trying to get out. I had thought he might like it more in there but aparently not.

Righto thten I'm off to Mother Hubbs's presently for luncheon. And my time on this computer is up. Gotta run!

PS I am supposed to be writing my memoirs. Has anyone got any advice for me?

PPS The ceiling is leaking rain all over my bed. Lovely.

Chinese Mousey Climbing

FOUND A NEW CAGE FOR THE CHINESE MOUSE! It was an abandoned budgie cage with birds' diarrhoea smeared all over the bottom; so I Cillit Banged it. Now it's gleaming shiny anew. I put Mouster in it. Wow, can he climb! Normal hamsters make up what they lack in agility in sheer enthusiasm. Surely we have all seen a great big fat tubby golden hammy pluckily attempting circuits of the upside down bar-clinging. Nearly every time they slip and fall, usually within half a minute. Well this one was right up the top for ten minutes and never slipt once, let alone fell... he really does have a "prehensile" tail (ie can hold onto things with it) and can even climb downwards facing down without once ever putting a foot wrong. Amazing agility. Now I'm putting all his nests in there for a furry transfer of homes. But it will have to be hidden come Monday morning when Evilstein promises to apply cockroach spray to every cranny. I told him I'd pack up my books in black sacks (bc the insects like to hide in between things and if I can pick up all my books in one go he can spray behind where they were. I loathe cockroaches and they're still there more than two years since their first manic infestation ...)

These mousey doings are all I have to say. Finding his new home really perked up my day as I've been exhaustedly down ever since forcing myself up at 11am. All I've really wanted to do ever since is to go back to bed ... well ... a bit like a hamster, really ...

Also I've been drinking far too much cyder. Which I shall have to cut down on, I know. But I don't know how I can ... I just wanted to go ro rehab and now I can't because they told me I'm on too much methadone juice and no detoxification plant would ever let me in ... so that is depressing too ... it's all very vulgar. If there's any news tomorrow except my going to Mother Hubbs's for Sunday lunch I will let you know.

BTW in repsonse to your question, whoever it was asked: Mother Hubbs (short for "Mother Hubbard" is not my genetic mother. Really just a friend. Who kind of took me in (took my stuff in more like. For over three years whilst I was at Nutnut Lona's and out on the streets.) Mother Hubbs is one of the best friends I have ever had.

Chinese Mouse Sullen Saturday

I SPOTTED A WOMAN BY THE BUS STOP BY THE METHADONE CHEMIST cradling a sawdust-filled glass rodentery complete with wheel and enormous fluffy nests. Was just about to ask what type of swine was in there when her bus came. Last night I let out the Chinese mouse expressly to sleep in my hat. Which he did do. For about half an hour. Only for me to eventually fall asleep and wake up - presto! - no Chinese mouse to be seen. The swine was running furry Scalectrix all over my newly-cleared carpets ... Looked so indignant at being recaptured ... The time before that when he escaped I was looking for the swine everywhere ... no luck at all. O man! He's gone underneath the cooker, I feared. Only for a wild scrabbling to alert me near my head. The old swine had made a nest right underneath my pillow and was happily dozing in there. Appeared totally shocked and affronted when this enormous hand uncovered the new nest and scooped him out of there and my voice saying: "You've been caught. You swine! You've been caught." (Why do people talk to pets like they're three year old children? OK, I'll rephrase the question: why do I ..?)

All day I have been in a dismally bad exhausted mood. Scurried back home as soon as I could then got hungry. I have pigged out on Sainsbury's miniature granary baps and chili-peppered sardines with Anchor "spreadable" real butter.

I am really tired and have to go now. What a forlorn day. It feels really hot and sweaty. Rains are forecast even more than before (the papers keep reporting on Gloucester being flooded out. Is this something to do with that nursery rhyme:
Dr Foster
Went to Gloucester
In a shower of rain ...
??

Maybe not. Ho-hum.

If anything exciting happens I'll let you know.

Oh. Vague excitement an hour ago when I found a paper Chinese lantern someone had left out. So I've put it on my barebulb centrehanging light. That Dr Evilstein only troubled to repair for himself a week ago ...

Righty-ho then...

Hamster Alive; Cockroach Dead

I'VE BEEN HIBERNATING ALL AFTERNOON.

Evilstein came this morning and sprayed insecticide everywhere. He has it in industrial strength liquid. It certainly worked. I saw a cockroach dancing a jig not long afterwards... yes there are still cockroaches here ... He doesn't realize I have a Chinese mouse hiding in that tank on top of the cupboards... seems to believe the tank is empty (tribute to Mousey's hiding powers). He even tried to get me to throw said tank away as "rubbish". No way! If Mousey ever does come to light no way can Evilstein imply he "attracts vermin" because my book The Dwarf Hamster explicitly states, "in the wild, insects can constitute 60% of the Chinese hamster's diet," so there.

Evilstein seems to love industrial strength chemicals. Only yesterday did I find a "91% sulphuric acid" solution container in our outside bins. It was there in the name of drain cleaner. But I would not put anything past the psychotic Dr Evilstein ...

The Labour government two years ago downgraded cannabis from Class B to Class C under the antidrugs laws. Now the crowds are braying for it to be reclassified back to class B, especially as a study in today's Lancet medical journal states that smokers of cannabis are at a 40% to 200% higher lifetime risk of developing schizophrenia or psychosis. Well I don't know about that. The opposing side point out that levels of schizophrenia have not increased among the general population in the 30, 40 years or so that cannabis has been popular in this country. To which The Lancet doctors reply that hospitalization practice has vastly changed over that time (so hospitalizations cannot be used as a fair guide to schizophrenia levels in the general population) plus the diagnostic criteria for schizophrenia have changed over that time. So it is impossible to state with any accuracy whether levels of schizophrenia in the general populus have increased. One factor they seem not to have considered: maybe cannabis appeals more to those who are likely to go on to get schizophrenia anyhow ... All I can say about cannabis and me is that in recent times it has disagreed with me so incredibly virulently I felt like I was losing my mind last time I smoked half a spliff! So I just don't go there. Horrible stuff it is. I quite like the smell it leaves after it's been smoked. But the drug itself? Nasty business!

Cannabis? It should be made illegal ...

***

I KNOW I CAN'T POST PHOTOS. BUT IF YOU WANT to see a clip of a Chinese Hamster that looks just like mine (except this one's female) click here.

Or click this one for a Chinese Hamster from Japan. The film is better ...

And this clip shows how they cling so adeptly to hands and fingers. Seriously agile ...

***

BLOG OF THE DAY 1: Malins Drom. Has some lovely Nordic arctic huskie pixx.

BLOG OF THE DAY 2: http://theo-de-bruxelles.blogspot.com - Belgian baby pictures.

***

OK I gotta go. I have a severe soft white rolls and hoummus craving

***

PS: This is a way of supposedly tricking American (?) Coca-Cola machines into giving out free drinks and then returning your money..?? Has anyone actually seen a Coke machine like in the clip? I haven't...

Clean Council

COUNCIL MAN CAME YESTERDAY: Evilstein gave me an update as he drilled a new lock (finally!) into my door first thing in the morning. Of course he did it to catch me in. But it does feel a little like he is persecuting me barging in at such eraly hours. I was of course right to do the absolute minimum to keep the room acceptable (it was totally tidy as far as I could make it but, as I say I knew he/they would find fault) and they surely did ... This morning he also gave me finally the loan of a vaccuum cleaner to get all the bits out of the carpets. Of course I've brushed them endless times ... but well I just realized today that I'm sure fitted carpets were never invented until after the vacuum cleaner ... My rugs I swept out of the window, but what can you do with fitted carpets? They're a real inconvenience ... when I get my own place finally I'm not having fitted carpets at all. Just big rugs in the middle of bare boarded rooms. Lona ("NutNut") had no carpets at all (but a few medium-sized rugs) and her home was ultra-dust-free because of that. Anyway now the hoovering's been done it looks far, far nicer. Chinese Hammy is coming out for a celebratory "ping" later ...

In response to an American query: what is a council man? It means a man who works for the local council. Not an elected councillor. I found out relatively recently, btw, that Britain has a massive "permanent government" compared to the USA. I didn't realize nearly every high office has to be filled anew when a new president comes in. We have career civil servants doing such jobs. I think people prefer it that way because, just like having a Queen, it gives a sense of continuity whatever goverment's in power. Also the British people would never tolerate supreme judges being nominated by the ruling goverment! That is far too much like corruption to us!!

It's still been raining at a rate of 4cm an hour every day for an hour or so. Aparently some places are swilling with dysentry-laden floodwaters. Children should not go in them. Ukk!

Right I'm gonna have to end my post here. Sorry it's boring but no news!

All the best to y'all ...

Gleds


***

Blog of the day: Our Fairytale Life

Head Shrunk

PSYCHIATRIC ASSESSMENT TODAY. Got there on time (so psyched up, set alarm for 9am for 10:30 appointment). Man! It was exhausting. We only got a half or a third way through the potential ground to be covered. So I'm not bandaged up in str8 jackets yet ... The next appointment can't be till after August as that's holiday season (not as bad as in France. But still; you can rarely ever do anything important in August ... He knows all about my supersonic hearing episodes, handwashing episodes, depression episodes, hair falling out episodes (never even mentioned that here), suicide "episodes" (psychiatrists love the word "episode" - perhaps it's because they can sit back, tuck into the popcorn and lasciviously wait until the next drama unfolds in that patient's life: the next "episode" ...)

Well no other news except I have to post this now as am off home and not coming out again and it's raining. And the council man: I only found out this morning, was coming for "inspection" today. Well good luck to him because far as I was concerned he was coming Monday and I'll tell him that if anyone ever asks and spick and span is one thing but I live in that room. In one room. With no storage elsewhere. So I'm not making it un-lived-in for anyone. I've done the things they wanted. If I do more I know they will only find fault so I'm keeping my actions to the minimum. If my room is not in a perfectly acceptable state ... well I will eat a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone ...

Right I gotta go because I'm tired. It is 3pm I've been out all day and I want to see what if any nasty correspondence/other things have been left for me back there.

Cheerio!

Tuesday - Soporific Nite

OK; not quite nite yet. Evening time. Time for slow jazz or the neighbours' wailing reggae:- "Rolly-polly rolly-polly-no!" or have I verse 3 of Obie's Teeth rap nibbling my head? Naomi-Joy says rap 'n' hiphop ain't the same. Will some-1 please help me cos it's not my music. If it ain't "rap" - what da hell is hiphop den?Hey the reggae's perked up somewhat. BTW, wot is that chang-chang-chang every other beat? That seems to mark out reggae from every other music. What is it? I always assumed it was some honkeytonk or stummed guitar or something. But what is it? Please sm1 tell me as I've got it on the brain ...

Talking of things "on the brain"; the advice of Jesus Christ comes to mind: "Moderation in all things." Since when have I ever been capable of doing anything in moderation? That is my biggest failing, I think. And yet paradoxically, conversely, I also suspect it shall be the very thing that, put into action on the right thing at the right time, will finally give me the NRG to drag me up, lift me clear of this morass in which I'm helplessly wallowing, to lift me out and keep me on running until I'm not just clear but well clear and all this jumble, this confusing nightmare of existence isn't mere memory but a vague fadedness, as indistinct as it deserves to be. Lost smithereens of another lifetime will not be worth collecting in the future. Which is why if I'm gonna do it, I'm commencing penning my memoirs right now. So that I know. And my readers shall most definitley know. That the story I tell is real. Then I can let it go and my past can go two places simultaneously where it belongs. The dustbin. And the dump-bins of bookshops worldwide!

I'm behind, both in life and in blogthings. I know I'm meant to fulfill at least two "tags" (why do they call a "tag" a "meme" now? When a "meme" merely means (supposedly) "a unit of cultural information"? Can anybody explain? Because I'm confused by that one. Seriously confused.) Also I'm meant to email at least two people. If anyone else wanted me to get in touch for whatever reason and I don't - please would you remind me? (More to the point, re-remind me!) I am not just human but easily "confused". Even the local council says so - so just bear that in mind! And I do apologize. I can't even do one thing at one sometimes, let alone all these things I'm often meant to do and yet cannot recall even to do as the time comes round ... ho-hum!!

Tune of the Day: Cafe del Mar "Open Your Mind" - especially for Claire who's disappeared in Guatemala.

And here's Obie Trice - Got Some Teeth lyrics (click here too see the video!)

[Obie Trice - talking]
WOO!
Damn ..
There's a lot of bitches up in here tonight boy
I'm about to get drunk
Let's hold down,
Where the bar at?
[*crashing noise*]

[Verse 1]
Okay, okie dokey Obie's here
No more focus, hobo's got a career
And I like your brassiere and there's a party in here
And I'm ready to talk naughty in Veronica's ear
She erotic and it's hot, saw Heineken beer
Put her to the side and invite here to "Cheers"
Pull up a chair, nigga swear no drama
prepare for a player your workin with a MONSTER [*yelling*]
I ain't got time to waste, let's vacate the place
Shut blinds and drapes, grind to your face in a grimy state
Concentrate, you will find that your bound to get
But we found what's fate
We can watch two incredible mates masterbate
Why settle and wait
Let's Escalade to the nearest Super 8
To your rear is on the mirrors and they smearin booty cheeks
C'mon

[Chorus - 2X]
And this is my favorite song
Now sing along when the DJ throws it on
And if I leave here tonight and I fall asleep
And wake up, [*sound of water dropping*], hopefully she got some teeth

[Verse 2]
Okay holy moly derriere
Look around the club booty everywhere
She caught me starin
And my homies darin me to approach Karen
She's model material, but she got a venereal
Tons of baby fathers', baby bottles and cereal
She holla cause I got a lot of denerio
The DJ's playin Obie song on the stereo
And she's impaired and she wants to be headin home
With the real thing not the dildo clone
And I know I don't wanna be headin home
With some double D's full of silicone
Ten hoodrat chicks surround me outside
Found me outside, clown me outside
'Til I popped da trunk and they found me outside
Cussin' at the bitches screamin "off to they rides!"

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Okay rolie polies everywhere [*horse naying noise*]
Gotta find a slim chick's atmosphere
Obesity's glarin and she got me fearin
She's gonna come over here and try to eat me literal [*crunching noise*]
-ly, like a box of Cheerios
Carrot cupcakes and chocolate Tootsie rolls
I'm outta order cause I gotta big girl disorder
So better cover up that blubber or I'll split [*feet running away noise*]
And I ain't got time to play
Let's investigate another place today
Ladies less in weight and the dress they shape
Dresses pettite, no window drapes

[Obie Trice - talking]
Word to mother, they god damn okra and beans
Got ya Oprah in jeans
Seems to me a little lean cuisine
Wouldn't hurt much, hot don't touch

[Chorus]

[Outro - Obie Trice - talking]
Haha, haha, ha
You gotta have teeth baby
It just wouldn't look right
Look, me big lips ..
You no teeth, it wouldn't work
You know what I'm sayin
Haha ha, yeah
I'm feelin good
Shady Records man
Obie Trice
C'mon

Current Currants

LAUNDRETTA COME STOMPING IN LATE last night complaining about a night of low bookings (at her whorehouse). Then shouted at the top of her voice, "Have they been round yet to put bait down for those mice?" SHE might have mice in her room; I do not. Evilstein, my landlord, was staring pointedly at Mousey's tank during that "room invasion" the other day. But I've had things like old hammy wheels lying about amidst the clutter for ages (since I moved in). I did have two dwarf hammies before here: one Campbells ("condensed hamster") the other Siberian Winter White - who was beautiful. Like a miniaturized furry hippo. The one I've got now is a Chinese "mouster")because he looks at first glance just like a mouse. Only his fur is richer reddy-brown, he has a black dorsal stripe, a stubby little tail (much longer than a normal hamster's but nothing like a mouse's tail), poppy black eyes much more like a woodmouse's than a common house mouse's eyes and white ears (not mushroomy or pink, like a normal mouse). Also he has cheek pouches, though they're barely ever used (not like a tubby "normal" hammy who will pack them to near-exploding-point ...) If they dare poison my pet I swear I will take the evidence to the RSPCA and get all the papers on to it. Maybe ten, fifteen years ago nobody would have been interested in a story like that. But times have changed and today the crime of animal cruelty - even to rodents - is prosecuted. By the way, I've been wondering why he has such massive balls (Mother Hubbs says that's why he doesn't want to run the wheel. Because they will scrape on behind ...) ... well I think it's because he comes from the Mongolian steppes where it is very dry they are to hold in water - just like a camel's humps - for when breeding season arrives and he goes off rambling in search of a lady Chinese Mouse ... Well that could be plausible. By the way: if you click this Midland Hamster club link, my one is "natural" colouring, like the one in the background.

***

Welshcakes: I've still got all the ingredients (down to real butter) but have failed to make them. I ate so many currants in the night (two handfuls every time I woke up. Which was a lotta times.) That I felt veritably ill when I woke up. Also last night was an almighty sleepcatchingup session. So I was "gone" from eleven p.m. until two p.m. this afternoon ...

***

No more news at present. I'm just trying to get myself prepared to go out tomorrow morning for this "shrink interview" on time ...

Welshcakes Council Psychiatric Rain

WOW! WHAT WAS I TRYING TO SAY YESTERDAY in paragraph six? Sometimes when I read back what I've put (only usually after it's been embarrassingly posted up for all to see for a good 24 hours!) I can't help but laugh. (The other thing I could do is cringe.) ... O wow! All those sentences going nowhere! Not that they were meant to fizzle out. I still remember their intended destination. Somehow, in all my dissonant cognition, they never arrived ... Ooer. The diarrhoea's gone though.

I asked Mother Hubbs should I tell the man everything on Wednesday (the shrink, during the psychiatric appraisal) - even if I'm scared it's totally damning and I'll end up on the FBI most wanted list forever afterwards (oops. That's paranoia talking ...) She said yes. And added for good measure: "I think you're bipolar." Oh thanks a lot!

Mother Hubbs was on lithium for bipolar disorder for ten, twenty years. So her home diagnosis is not encouraging. She only stopped lithium when opiates came her way. Opiates have a similar mood-stabilizing effect. This is something that has been observed but not proved by experiments and case studies (what are they going to do? Take a load of nutters and let them shoot up three times a day for three months and see whose symptoms improve? - I mean, it's not the easiest thing to prove; not in a randomized "scientifically" done trial ...

But I thought I might throw that controversial little "fact" into the mix. Even though I have been depressed I've been far, far flatter in mood than I was before the heroin period of life ... ho-hum!

Anyway I digress because Sainsbury's is nearby and I'm off to purchase ingredients (at last) for my famous Welshcakes. I've had a craving for these for ages ... First thing, in case you don't know them: they are not "cakes" in the accepted sense. More like jaffa cakes they're actually very crumbly biscuits ... or something like American cookies but ... well quite crumbly raising dotted sugary cookie-shaped biscuits. That's what I'd call them. I'm off to get the sugar and currants and butter I need.

Went to the council today to get a rent payment card. Because the last one got stolen when I left a bag-o'-shite in an internet caff. And have no payment counterfoils or whatever they're called things left. It said on the original letter the first card came with: if it is lost or stolen go to a certain building that I know quite well. So I get there. First you have to queue to tell a receptionist your problem. Then the receptionist gives you a number. Then you wait at least half an hour and your number is called. Then you repeat everything you told the receptionist, only to be informed you are, contrary to the council's mass mailshots, in the wrong building and should in fact be over three miles away. Ho-hum. I spoke to the correct person on the phone (from collections department. Ooer.) They're sending the right things along asap. They know that if they don't they haven't a hope of getting arrears payments out of me!

What else?

It is raining. Twilight. All lights on. Dismal cars hissing past. To and fro. To and fro. (Where are they going?) Bright lights of the Turkish takeaways ... Makes me wanna get Chinese but no! Proper food that has to be cooked is all I am purchasing. I have a kind of Sainsbury's craving ... OK gotta go before the cheese counter shuts. See yer laters

Mysterious Ways

EIGHT A.M. IS APPROACHING. So I'm "posting" this in my A4 notebook first.

Just above this entry are the last lines of a "my landlord's not chucking me out any more" one from nearly a week previously, which concluded:

Still with a home. Whoever prayed for me, it worked. Thanks to you. But thanks most of all to God Almighty. Wahey!!

Which statement was, of course, with hindsight, starting to look startlingly premature at one point.

But God works in Mysterious Ways. And you cannot lose faith in him just because you don't get something you want or think you ned. Even if that thing seems as essential as a home.

Having said all that, perhaps I should take you back to my time living with Lona (this will be the next episode of my Life Story when finally I get round to posting it). Lona is better known here perhaps as NutNut. She took me in off the street - almost (well: almost, because circumstances are complicated) and I stayed in her home for over two years. While I was there I picked up the habit of reading the Bible. This she seemed furiously opposed to (even though she did, on occasion, read her white confirmation-style Bible herself). Perhaps she felt it somehow hypocritical of a street junkie to be doing that. But there was no hypocrisy in my actions. Hypocrasy is not practising what you preach. Seeing as I wasn't preaching to anyone, neither was I a practising, praying or churchgoing Christian there could be no hypocrisy. I was merely perusing an interesting book. I still don't go to church: which church to go to. And infrequently pray. So how can reading the Bible be so very wrong? Sometimes I couldn't help but wonder why she was influenced by dark forces. Strange powers were circling all around us those days. I had remarkably odd dreams (e.g. of horned Egyptian god-like devil skulls staring at me) and frequently woke up screaming in those days. Which is something I rarely do now. Though I can shock myself even in my sleep by making a most resolute (and sinister-sounding humming in my throat when I try to talk or scream ... But as I say; that was happening every day at her's. It's really infrequent these days ...

Saw Valium Marilyn this afternoon. Have made appointment to go see Posh and Becks on her cable telly 8pm Tuesday night. Mother Hubbs was upset with me bc I arrived late for Sunday lunch but I couldn't help it. It has been a hot and beautiful day ...


I've got those two tunes (well, one tune - "Don't Want You Back/F--- U Right Back" by Eamon and Frankie going round in my head. Click on their pink names and you'll be able to see both their videos.

Also don't forget my Obie Trice hiphop comedy about false teeth. I didn't rate it the best rap vid of all time for nothing!! - STOP PRESS: if you tried it b4 and got some Jesus divert don't worry. Click the link just above; go to the top screen. That one plays.

***

I got blinkin' diarrhoea all day thanks to that RAW hamburger I munched into yesterday. I was so hungry/greedy even once I did know it was undercooked in the middle I couldn't help nibbling the better-cooked outsides ... And now the squits ... akk!

STOP PRESS OBIE TRICE IS WORKING NOW. SO IF YOU WANNA WATCH MY FALSE TEETH HIPHOP VIDEO CLICK HERE

Agatha Christie Afternoon

HI PEOPLE! I HAD A NICE SLEEP THIS AFTERNOON. Strangely, all this threat of homelessness and I've snapped totally out of the depression that had been dogging me for several weeks (it always comes in pretty indistinct waves, like recurrent U shapes on a graph, except it is sometimes possible to have an aparently good day (or better day) only to plunge back down...) On Tuesday when I got severe hastle off the Evilstein landlord I went straight to Mother Hubbs's with a suitcase full of papers all bubbly and hyper. But I quietened down and told her, "You know what, any moment now I'm going to flip," and I did flip out, but it was like the anxiety sensors in my brain had all been disconnected (OK I'd had a few drinks but drink is no cure for anxiety as we all know) ... no this was something else. My head turned a treble backwards sommersault and up up! Into Lalaland!! Strawberry Fields Verruca land! Yes I was indeed confused but I didn't want not to be confused. I knew the reality was too terrible to contemplate... does this make any sense at all? Like when I turned up (eventually) at the council's offices the woman treated me like I was retarded. I wasn't "hamming it up" either; I was trying to appear as lucid as I could but it just didn't work. My problem has been that even before I was on drugs people have accused me of being "stoned" when I was down and "high" when I was up. So what can I do? I can never win. Also my moods, I suppose I have to admit, do swing up and down a bit more than the average person's. Most of my friends say antidepressants "don't really do anything" ... well they do to me! I've had roaring highs off of them and been accused of being "hypomanic". Fortunately these periods usually stabled off within a week or so and I dutifully hid them from doctors to avoid the label "bipolar" and the dreaded lithium. I would hate to be on lithium. It is a toxic metal and aparently makes you feel all heavy and lifeless. On a mental flatline. Depressives who take it (as opposed to manic depressives) don't tend to complain about that factor so much, because, I'd suppose, if anything it is lifting them ... Anyway even if I were possibly "manic" depressive it would most definitely be the mildest type. I've never gone shopping naked in Selfridges dishing out million pound cheques to the homeless or doing other things the truly manic do. But ... oh I don't know. I have a psychiatric assessment next Wednesday but I'm not volunteering any info. I do want to complain about all the months I was paranoid and hearing through the walls (now I cannot hear through the walls, which suggests I was "tripping" the entire time ...) and will say to him what planet was my old drugs worker on, to let me come in in that state (I was in abject disarray I can tell you) and not do anything! That makes me so angry!!

Agatha Christie's book is "dreadfully good" as one of her society characters might pronounce. People say her plots are "creaking" and the dialogue "wooden" sometimes. No way! She captures the speech of a certain section of society - ie the upper and upper-middle classes of England ... really from the period between the wars. When At Bertrams Hotel came out in 1965 it was already a blast from the past then. That was the point of it; that was Christie's very appeal.

The "murder" is merely a disappearance and I'm half way through. There's been a great train robbery but Miss Marple isn't up to much yet ... I'll let you know how I get on. O! Did you know I did once read a Christie and guess who done it and how! (I'm sorry but merely picking the correct character's name blindfold with a pin, as it were, does not constitute solving the mystery!) But this one book I did guess howdunnit and kept thinking come on! Come on! Can't you see it. Usually I get it totally wrong. And have now learned not even to speculate. I just let the story roll out and at the end think: oh, of course! Yeah, like I was gonna guess it all along. Yeah, right ...

Okay dokey... Obie's here. Has nobody clicked my Obie Trice link? Come on!! It is fantastic!

***

PS Blog of the day: James's New Life in Beijing: http://shuanglong.blogspot.com - he's off to Tibet now. As I told him, Tibet and Burma are the two places I've most wanted to see in the entire world ... strangely they are linked ("Tibeto-Burman languages for one thing. Many of the Burmese, Lao and Thai hilltribes supposedly originate from Tibet too...) Give it a click. Well worth the look ...

***

This is what "Madonna" claims to be her newest song:

I only rumbled "her" by visiting her oldest posts and realizing what an obvious spoof it was back then. Which has grown into some sad person's at times quite convincing fake of a famous person's website. Even before I found the blog's glaringly spoofy beginning I had my suspicions. E.g. "she" claimed to have "just finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" ... well anyone who knows about Harry Potter will realize that not even Madonna is allowed an advanced preview copy. The book was printed under armed guard. The MS American edition was so closely guarded the exec who carried it over sat on it all the way on a first class London to New York flight ... She says she had trouble rehearsing that Life Earth /whatever it was called concert with a children's choir "because they were singing too loud, I had to keep telling them to calm down; people wanted to hear me, not them" ... but sound levels: that is a sound engineer's job, when sound is electronically amplified it's a simple task to get the mix right. And certainly not the choir's problem for "singing too loud" come on!! Blahblah... And so on and so on! ...And these poor people who comment every day in their droves feel some sparkle's come into their lives because Madonna herself is reading their very words. No! It is a sad unemployed balding former milkman in South London, let me tell you!

I've been working on some more tracks for my new album. This one song in particular is looking very promising. Right now I'm calling it "Dance Dance Dance." I'm having it remixed now. I'll test it out at some clubs and see what the reaction is. You never know...It could end up on the new album! [strangely it won't. because madonna didn't write it.] Here are the lyrics...


See which flavor you like and I’ll have it for you
Come on in to my store, I’ve got candy galore
Dont pretend you’re not hungry, I’ve seen it before
I’ve got turkish delight baby and so much more

Get up out of your seat (your seat)
Come on up to the dance floor
Ive got something so sweet (so sweet)
Come on up to the front door
I need plenty of heat (heat)
Form a special connection
Just start moving your feet (your feet)
Move on over to me

I’ll be your one stop (one stop)
Candy shop (candy shop)
Everything (everything)
That I got (that I got)
I’ll be your one stop (one stop)
Candy store (candy store)
Lollipop (lollipop)
Have some more (have some more)

My sugar is raw
Sticky and Sweet
Dance Dance Dance

All the suckers are not all we sell in the store
Chocolate kisses so good
you’ll be beggin for more
Dont pretend you’re not hungry
Ive got plenty to eat
Come on in to my store
cause my sugar is sweet!

Get up out of your seat (your seat)
Come on up to the dance floor
Ive got something so sweet (so sweet)
Come on up to the front door
I need plenty of heat (heat)
Form a special connection
Just start moving your feet (your feet)
Move on over to me

I’ll be your one stop (one stop)
Candy shop (candy shop)
Everything (everything)
That I got (that I got)
I’ll be your one stop (one stop)
Candy store (candy store)
Lollipop (lollipop)
Have some more (have some more)

See which flavor you like and I’ll have it for you
Come on in to my store, I’ve got candy galore
Dont pretend you’re not hungry, I’ve seen it before
I’ve got turkish delight baby and so much more

Get up out of your seat (your seat)
Come on up to the dance floor
Ive got something so sweet (so sweet)
Come on up to the front door
I need plenty of heat (heat)
Form a special connection
Just start moving your feet (your feet)
Move on over to me

I’ll be your one stop (one stop)
Candy shop (candy shop)
Everything (everything)
That I got (that I got)
I’ll be your one stop (one stop)
Candy store (candy store)
Lollipop (lollipop)
Have some more (have some more)

Church of the Poison Mind

THE LOCAL CHURCH HAS JUST TRIED TO KILL ME, I think. As I strolled past, cyder in hand, I got pulled into their barbecue: "but I've got to go, I've gotta be home in five minutes!" I protested. "This will only take one minute," the man informed me. Gestured to their barbecue. "All free. Take some!" So I had a beefburger. In a bap. With tomato ketchup. Took to munching it on the way back and .. ukk!! Inside was sloppy and raw. And cold. Quite disgusting. I hope I do not get food poisoning from this. "Hygeine", in fact, was the very reason I did not choose anything from their chicken drumstick display. Then I thought back... realized they'd cooked the chicken before the burgers (I'd seen them do it as I passed by earlier) ... so hey-hum. The worst of both worlds. Raw beefburger cooked atop an already chicken-salmonella'd griddle!!

Click here and listen to this. My all time favourite hiphop track.
It is by Obi Trice - "Got Some Teeth" - yeah man. Love dem groovy flavas ...

And the track inspiring this title? By Culture Club from 1983 - click here to view ...

***

SAINSBURY'S ARE NOW DOING "VALUE" fresh mushroom tortelloni: £1.50 for 600g. So I got this and Red Leicester cheese for grating atop. And white cyder and lemonade to wash it down. Those Welshcakes are going to have to wait; I want to know they're going to come out properly or making them will be a waste of time. As I said, I don't have sugar in my kitchen (Matran once got really annoyed when I refused him a "loan" of sugar, disbelieving that anyone could not have it. Why would I? I never drink hot drinks now and don't do baking. So why would I need sugar? Also when I did used to buy it to put in my tea I was using nearly a kilo every week or two which I think is ridiculous (I was drinking a lot of tea and coffee ...)

OK wish me luck I'm off to cook pasta.

BTW international question: what cheese do people eat in North America? I've never in my life come across American cheese ... and seem to recall just once, in a totally isolated incident, coming across Canadian "cheddar" ... what cheeses do you have over there? Does America and Canada really do cheese? If so what is it like and what is it called? I'm fascinated to know ...