Saturday, 29 May 2010

Sex and the Pity

There was something awfully sad in overhearing a girl in the cinema foyer say "Oh, I hate to be on my own, ever! I just can't stand to be in my own company." But that only sunk in after I stifled a LOL.

Thursday, 27 May 2010

Team Meeting

Languid limb listless across lists of to do's and have not done's,
diligent delegation like a Radio Times schedule.
We're chewing pen lids instead of strawberry laces
and getting ink all over our hands.
Wrist width wrinkle of blue skyed sunlight between blinds
lends to internal laments
that it's been long since we lost a day riverside
with a shopping trolley for our transport,
80p of pocket money and a flask of strong ribena rucksacked.
Two finger salute to the flock flying south;
we'll pass a fallen sparrow for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
and flip it with a stick before the weekend.
(If Sunday night's dinner is spaghetti, you'll pale. )
I didn't listen to a word you just said
but I'm nodding.
Let's put away your breasts,
there's too much trying wedged into that cleft.
Let our desks dust
and we'll ride our bikes til our bodies brown.

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

I feel the need, the need for tweed.

This Karl Lagerfeld creation would almost make me willing to contend with helmet hair each morning.

Alas it's $1800. Boy will have to continue to fret each morning that I'm gonna come home a mangled mess of head injury and scraped knee. (I reckon I'll make it.)

Jeez, imagine if this was my last post.

Slim with the titled brim.

Brad's been ill with laryngitis so what better way to cheer her up than obesity bakery.

We used Bakerella's Snickerdoodle Duo recipe, because it's my favourite source of bakery inspiration right now. Cinnamon cupcakes, cinnamon cookie topping, meringue icing. We baked out cookies larger to resemble hats rather than stacks.
Remember: novelty first, kids.

Whilst waiting for the icing to set, Bradders did some marking.

Question: Describe a man.

Answer: "Just bust out of a mental asylum. Dancing like there's no tomorrow. Hair looks like he's been electrocuted. Having the time of his life."

We laughed til we cried, then dived gob-first into the wizard cupcake tribe. Watched the 'Hush' episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer so she wouldn't feel quite so alone in her voicelessness.

She left my house terrified.

Monday, 24 May 2010


The weather was nice enough for the first picnic of the Summer. Everything was so lovely, even though I was reading Nick Cave's The Death of Bunny Monro.

I never knew that absolutely everything is like a vagina.

Carry Me Back To My Home

Liverpool Sound City is over. Cut off the wristband and fell face first into the duvet for a day.

This is the stuff I will remember most.

Ernie Paniccioli opening the Screenadelica Exhibition was also something I'm glad not to have missed. It's nice to hear people truly believe art can be the seed of one hell of a fuck-off fruit.

Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Love, I'm your biggest fan.

Back from All Tomorrow's Parties with a little baby made from beer and burgers in my belly. I deflated faster than I can de-bloat. Someone else's make up had been all over my clean sheets and we had chalets worse than I knew existed. Lloyd said it was 'like Auschwitz' but their's had killer bunk beds so they were one up on us.

I'd been reading Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh on the way down south. 'Each of the angels carried her wings in a little black box like a violin case' in the first chapter hung tightly onto the coat tails of my imagination everytime a musician pranced past. I missed a lot of the bands due to having too good a time with the boyfriend round the corner (accidentally convenient placing of our separately booked chalets being high five worthy, most certainly). But Pavement were swell and I wish Monotonix's set hadn't been cut short, real short. I was kinda enjoying sitting cross-legged on the floor due to overzealous security measures. It felt like assembly just got good.

The following weapon has been deployed today to help me re-enter a world where I am living.

Tuesday, 11 May 2010


Out of everything I saw in London last week, this was my favourite.

Sarah Impey, 'Punctuation'


Scars on my legs, tickets tacked to walls, postcards from places I didn't go and toys from ages I wish I'd stayed.

Monday, 10 May 2010


So help us.

I remembered this weekend an exhibition I'd stumbled across (Polish friend of my Grandfather's en tow) on a visit to the Science Museum in London a few years back. It encouraged kids to think how their lives would change if energy became a more prized commodity, tykes having to produce their own hydrogen in exchange for pocket money and poo needing to be brought home from school for the compost heap.

I took about a thousand photos in absolute awe.

Yes, I want a card saying 'Happy Birthday. May you have many productive and happy years as a hydrogen producer' with a parental agreement on the other side and a badge on the front. And as for the lunchbox? IT BLEW MY MIND but do you mind if I have one side for the stuff I want to eat (lunch, otherwise known as cupcakes) and the other for, like, my badly made sandwiches?

I also got a valuable insight yesterday into teenage imaginings of World War One. A creative literature piece my friend was marking ended with:

My legs and remaining arm were blown free from my body. After the war was the most depressing time. I missed my limbs. The nurse just sat outside, smoking.

[note: Stef informed me the first limb was lost earlier in the one-sheet-of-A4 tale]
Can't wait for the future.