Saturday, March 7, 2009

You look like a photograph of yourself taken from far far away

Check out the attitude of Micheal Phelan here

First things first, as Steve Covey recommends. You have got to, got to, GOT TO and did I mention, you've got to - check out the interpipe phenomenon that is Jimmy Bastard. Seriously. Click on the link of the brooding rugged guy in my Followers list.

Hard men are good to find and good friends are indispensable. Last night G allowed me to howl like a rabid wolf in his room (oo-er) for ten minutes, while he giggled at me from the other side of the room, shouting occasional encouragement, such as 'Yeah! Get it out of your system!!'

Then he introduced me to this, allowing us to set aside my pseudo sorrows for the rest of night and laugh ourselves silly on Damson Gin while speculating on the who's and how's that we would sing Lily Allen's latest to. Hope you enjoy it as much as we did, but I doubt it.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

if they were me and I was you

I had a ridiculous amount of fun tonight with the fizzlingly ( I know, I made it up, I'm particularly proud of it), talking interpersonal behaviour, best friends and the joys and perils of love and fake breasts.

I love that our conversations are wide-ranging and eclectic, moving easily and effortlessly from questions of practical philosophy to frivolous gossip and girlish speculation. One of my favourite conversations concerned one of the obscenely good looking young barmen at the Slug and Lettuce, toward whom I traditionally begin the evening with polite respect and end with somewhat salivating flirtation:

The young man in question was collecting glasses at an adjacent table towards the end of the night as I turned and glanced toward him, then double-took.

I turned swiftly to Sally with what, in hindsight, I hope was a hushed whisper.

"Would you look at his arse? How can it be so simultaneously plump and yet tight?"

Sally rolled her eyes, grinning, and checked him out. She frowned as she stared.

"Yes," she answered thoughtfully, "I see what you mean. It's lovely."

We gazed in the same direction for a moment in silence.

"I think he's on the other bus," she declared, with a soft smile to me.

"Hmmmm," I replied, not shifting my stare.

A minute or so passed in silence before I met Sally's eyes again and asked with intensity, "Do you think that means he would mind if I asked to touch his bum?"

Sally nodded, thinking it through.

"No," she answered finally, "Definitely not. I mean, it's a compliment, isn't it?"

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ONE,
THE ONLY,
THE TRULY GORGEOUS,
XXX SALLY JONES XXX


Sunday, March 1, 2009

Back in the days when I made my home in the marrow of your bones

I found this picture by Naomi Skarsinski and urge you to spend some time with her work, at once...

I've had a beautiful friendship couple of days, the sweet touch of serendipity into my life. I spent the evening in the Kings Tavern last night, after bumping into Southsea's own charismatic Lothario, DC, whilst I was smoking in the street reading Barack Obama's 'The Audacity of Hope'. He was with his friend J and they invited me to the pub. I invited Lynda and James and James invited Vinnie. We just happened to bump into Gareth, then Steve and then a handful of other people in the pub. We smoked in the garden while I drank a little too much wine and talked a little too much politics, walked home with Lynda and fell onto the couch and into unconsciousness.

Lynda stayed at mine and we went for a long breakfast, the morning papers, some more politics and some serious munchies. We took a long walk along the seafront and had a gently flowing, rambling conversation about life, the Universe and everything (including a bit more politics). It turns out Paul was right, and the greatest of these is love.

I dropped Lynda off at the Peace Cafe, bumped into the infinitely knowledgable, almost qualifies as cheating if you have him on your team in a pub quiz, Steve Hyde, and left Lynda to book herself a slot with the sparklingly magical Pixie herself, Sue George (book your slot at the cafe on 9283 0544 for her next appearance in March), had a quick chat with her gorgeous starman of a husband, Dixie, and headed off to the office for a few hours work.

I spent the evening eating pizza with Pixie and Dixie and giggling in delight with the beautiful GJ, who's on a flying stop over from Spain. All in all, priceless. I sigh contentedly and leave you with this.