gitatronic shirtings a la whist der nonclementure

Well there goes summer then, it’s been pissing it down solidly since the wee hours, It’s still doing it now, the selfish bastard.

Yesterday was dull; despite being exhausted I worked hard after putting up the self-referential wallowings… but to no avail. It’s deader in here than Rod Hull. The boss is on holiday in Portugal, he may was well be in Glasgow on the brink of being beaten up and raped for all the good it’s doing him, he’s on the phone every 5 minutes checking up on progress, I can virtually hear the veins throbbing in his neck as he relentlessly discovers that business is about as healthy Bhopal.

I staggered home ravaged and sorted my flat out; it felt odd being in there, like someone else’s place or at best, a familiar hotel suite. I’ve been spending so much time in the East End lately, feeling all the better for it I hasten to add, that my part of London doesn’t really give me that kick anymore, not that it did in the first place actually.

At 7-ish Lana came over. I’d not seen her in an age as she lives in Switzerland with her husband who is in the porn business, not in a cock way I hasten to add. We walked off to get a curry in a little eatery down the road. Aside from the pub and the tube this place is the only thing going for my area, why did I buy there, why?

Anyway, the food in this gaff is always marvellous; it’s south Indian so it doesn’t feel like you’re eating chilli lava that will blow your gristle through the porcelain the following day. We conversed about our comings and goings over supper and a bottle of Kingfisher then popped back to the flat for a quick smoke before Lana departed into the night.

I watched the last Criminal Justice which I reviewed on WWM (link à)and had a gin and tonic trying to remain awake. I’m looking forward to doing fuck all tonight I really am, I’m going to make a fucking pile of corned beef hash n’ veg and spend the night watching TV in my pants, clutching my belly and burping. And farting if I get a look in.

Oh, thank god, the boss is on the phone.