plai

Yesterday was a complete write off. I went out once to get some lamb and sprouts, how on earth I managed that is a mystery. Using these ingredients I made so much roast food I was unable to move afterwards. I sat in front of Spiderman 3 like a booze-soaked heap of slag dreading the Monday that dawned in darkness concealing pissing-howling rain.

The cause of my malaise began on Saturday evening when I went to East Hackney to see a play starring one of my pals. I’d had a swift pint before the show, one during the interval and then after the evening began proper. The play was quite good (I’m not a fan of theatre) though certainly saved by the two leads. As it was the last night the small cast came together to celebrate a successful run, at some point James joined us and we stayed until closing. I’m not sure how this came about but it was I that arranged for 3 cabs to take us all to Shoreditch, on arrival I found myself the unlikely lead for a group of about 9 and had to make a ‘yeah, I know it round here’ decision as to where to go that wasn’t rammed solid. I took a punt with Jaguar Shoes, it was rammed stiff but James managed to discover the downstairs was virtually empty, with couch-seating, and there was bar down there. A complete result that lead to my being given a round of applause, bizarrely.

We stayed for a few hours before being moved on to the street. We had to wait ages for a cab but managed to get hold of a 7-seater people carrier after a while to take everyone back to my gaff. Four of the group I only knew by association but the strangers were kind enough to pop off and buy kebabs and they returned with one for me, a chicken one with red lumps of meat which I picked at in horror. We smoked and drank in earnest. James and I had the hysterics about something (this may have been at the expense of one of the strangers, I’ve no idea but one girl clearly thought I was a tit.) By 5.30-ish 5 of us remained, my mate, his two friends, James and I. All quite fucked up teenage style. My mates’ two friends slept on the sofa bed, my mate on the floor over the discarded cushions and James with me in the bed.

I’m not sure what time I let the 3 sleeping bodies into the day, at some point James set off too, blinking into the morning… I went back to bed where I stayed until mid-afternoon and woke feeling like I’d been embalmed.

On Friday I had a few in my local with Paul but, aware of how Saturday might lead, took it easy when I got home. Besides, on Saturday morning I had to take Brutta to Bermondsey in order to drop her off at the bike shop for her maiden service. I then took a cab to my brothers, the busses were all fucked up and I had little choice but to take the cab fare on the chin. We spent a few hours playing Batman and watching Jackass before the bike shop called me to inform me Brutta was reading for collection. I’d decided to leave the restrictor on until the engine is fully run in, which will be about February time, however, she’s noticeably quicker which comes as some relief. Of course I managed to get home, shower and get out in time for the play or most of the above would’ve been blank

Awful to hear of those floods in Cumbria, two people have died already and apparently almost 50 people are missing, this doesn’t mean they’re dead, merely unaccounted for. 900 or so properties have been devastated by the water and the heart has been torn out of beautiful little village, but perhaps what is more of tragedy is the unfortunate place-name. I know the river is called The Cocker and the village lies at the mouth of The Cocker, but for fucks sake, Cockermouth?

Ladies and Gentlemen, here’s Gibby…