Stayed up late watching Bernard Purdie videos on YouTube the
other night. It left me looking at drum kits but thankfully I restrained myself
and didn’t reach for the credit card. There is absolutely no reason for me to
fill more space which I need for living in with another music related item. Where
will I sleep? Where will I shit? No drums.
We have started the process of creating another EP. Bits and
bobs are slowly coming together. Hopefully it won’t be as long a process as the
last one, which should have taken a couple of months and ended up taking a
year. That was entirely because I am so bleeding slow. At this point I will
refrain from saying anything more about it because most of it won’t actually
happen. When it does finally arrive you’ll never know what you missed out on.
Until the 50th Anniversary editions start coming out.
I found myself in Basingstoke the other day. It took about
five hours to get there. Basingstoke has a lot of hanging baskets. I grew up
not far from Basingstoke and I endured a low level feeling of dread that
someone I knew from way back when would suddenly appear. I think I have shed
most of my Southern England sensibilities, even though I have preserved the accent
somewhat. Knowing that I was probably surrounded by Tories and UKIPpers and
they might spring out and spray me with their racism and bigotry was akin to
expecting the sky to fall in. Probably very unfair of me, they would be too
frightened by my beard and suntan and would simply call the Police.
Basingstokian: Help! Police! There’s a terrorist walking
towards the train station! He’s got a beard and is wearing a sweater that is
not suitable for the weather at this time of year at this latitude!
Basingstokian Police Ossifers: Quick! To the riot van!
Me: Death to the hanging baskets!
PC Golightly: Fall back boys, he’s too strong for us!
Captain Tory Wanker: Have no fear, Captain Tory Wanker is
here!
I’ll leave that there. I was going to introduce UKIP Catamite
Lad but I didn’t want to insult catamites. It’s hard enough being a catamite at
the best of times I imagine, without getting dragged into half-baked poorly
written imaginary situations, such as the 2015 Conservative Manifesto.
I thaaank yoooooow!
