Apr 24, 2001
Random thoughts from Tuesday
- Watching the Open University last night at about two, I discovered (on a programme about civic design, as you do) that Terry Hall (ex Specials) moved out to the country to become sane. He moved, in fact, to Hayfield, which is a tiny weeny little village in the Derbyshire Peak District near where I used to live. Blimey. Never saw him for last orders down at the George. Who knew? I could have bored him rigid about the fact that he recorded the first single I ever bought as I tried to procrastinate my dissertation write-up over a pint. Hang on, dangling modifier. I was neither a child prodigy nor a late musical developer. Curses to grammar!
- I am drowning in mucus. Sorry, TMI. Suffice to say, cold has moved on to a whole new level - surprising and powerful sneezes that feel reeeeeeeeally good. Oh yes, and it’s definitely a cold. I’m not going to be a man about this and pretend it’s flu, pneumonia, the plague, miximatosis, creeping death or anything else. I feel grim and horrid, but it’s a cold and I will recover. So there.
- Flash of inspiration: those kids on the platform at Willesden Junction the other night? The ones with all the spit? They must have been eating Sainsbury’s Cola Lances. Otherwise, how else were they able to produce so much saliva? Problem solved.
- I had to go to an important meeting this afternoon, which is why I dragged myself into the office feeling so rat shit. When I got back after two hours of waffle, I found a post-it-note stuck to my monitor from Scally saying
“GO HOME YOU STUPID WOMAN OR I WILL HAVE TO SPANK YOU”
only in really big letters. He has since hypothesised that I could, in fact, be replaced by a complex cardboard cutout with rolling eyes and a moving jaw, with a built-in random speech generator that says “oh kill me now” “gah” “ming” “old lady cat wee” “resistance is futile” and “why are men endowed with such vast quantities of vagueness and such a high propensity for fucktardery?” when you pull a little string (so, in fact, more like a robot). That way, he reckons, he could come down to my desk and wibble at me without me actually needing to be present. Why thank you, Scally, think you’ve summed me up to a tee, there.
- You know when people have “our song”? The song that they fall in love to, or the song that was playing on the radio the summer they met, or the song that basically helped them through the hard times? The song that they saunter up the aisle to? The song that Simon Bates would read out lengthy stories beforehand and then play with a tear in his eye and a croak in his throat? What would be the suckiest or most unfortunate possible our song to have? Songs that conjour up entirely the wrong emotion, but yet some poor bastards could well be stuck with that as their song for all eternity (or until that nice Mrs Davies at number 38 invites you in for coffee)? Some suggestions include….
- Ever fallen in love with someone (you shouldn’t've fallen in love with)? - Buzzcocks
- You’re So Vain - Carly Simon
- Whatsamatter you? (Hey!) (Shaddupayaface) - Joe Dolce
- C is for Cookie - Cookie Monster
- I hate everything about you - Ugly Kid Joe
- Love will tear us apart - Joy Division
- I hate myself for loving you - Joan Jett
- No more I love yous - Annie Lennox
- I hate you - Christian Death
- It’ll never last (nah-nah-han) - Meg and the Cynics
- Is she really going out with him? - Joe Jackson
- Pencil Skirt - Pulp (but only for the line “I’ve kissed your mother twice and I’m working on your dad”)
- If that’s your girlfriend (she wasn’t last night) - Queen Pen
- Unbearable - Wonderstuff
- Baby I love your cunt - S*M*A*S*H
- Not if you were the last junkie on earth - Dandy Warhols
- Caught out there (I hate you so much right now) - Kelis
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