The Spirit of Daytime

Hello again,















Well, where to start, missus?

Been quite a while and quite quiet with it.

Holiday for a week in a teepee in Wales has been and gone, as has hair, money, bodily waste and my sense of wordage. Been dull and frustrated, but haven't let things get on top of me. Not even the filipino nurse I found outside City Hospital. Bugger!

Sold this house and bought another one back in Bearwood, should be in
there by mid to late January, all being well.

Wrists are being crap, the right one especially. Had the op on it and
it went very well, better than the previous one on my left hand, in
fact. Weird thing, every medico who saw it admired the scar and obvious professionalism it suggested. "Just because the best tailoring you've seen was above your fucking appendix..." Withnail quote kept coming into mind, but not to mouth. Oh no. I've learned that lesson by now. Still, they sold me a doll with voodoo qualities and everyone was a winner.

Obviously, I was bored, frustrated at not being able to do much
and, seeing as it was healing ok, have gone and used it too much. How do I know? Well, it's taken three weeks and a home help to write this and I am banned from doing a lot of things around the house. I now get an illicit thrill from ironing something, then having to hide it in the toilet cistern in case Liz catches me. The sweet smell of conditioner nearly gave me away the other night, but I told her I was drinking Comfort in an attempt to dull the pain. Poor girl, I think she wanted to believe me.

This all means I have a sleep pattern like a drunken, three legged epileptic
spider on a strobing spirograph during an earthquake, only worse. Can't get referred to the physio or consultant without a gp and won't be able to see my own gp until I have an address in his coverage area,that being Bearwood, and me being outside that. This year, my Christmas dinner is being blended and served with a straw but, all
things considered, I'm doing ok and am dealing with things very well.

Was sent a link for a website that plays tracks similar, apparently, to the bands you specify liking. Through this, www.pandora.com, I have been formally introduced to Wesley Willis.

Who hell he?

He is the real life, John Shuttleworth.
Except he's American.
And over 300lbs in weight.
And black.
And on Alternative Tentacles.
And diagnosed schizoprenic.
Oh, and dead,
but he DOES use the pre-sets on a Casio keyboard to create his songs,
which are usually about his life, or people in the music business, or
superheroes whose ass he has whupped.
Examples would include, "I whupped Spiderman's ass", "Suck a
caribou's ass", and "Alanis Morrisette". Very similar, I'm sure you'll all agree. Ken would no doubt be frothing to sign him up.

For anyone who doesn't follow some of the references made in this ramble, please consult your local showroom or get on and find out. I am a fan of one of the most under recognised bands ever, Half Man Half Biscuit, and through trying to work out their lyrics have gained a whole new education. British cultural references are in danger of being swept away in a tv themed tidal wave of Americanisation and is just one of the (many) things I shout at the telly about.

Yes, too much time has been spent televising. I should not really be on this pc now, but the thought of watching another Judge Judy does me noggin in. especially when I will be watching it later tonight.

Ah well, the throb tells me it's time to go. And I've got to get the tea ready. Good job Liz believes in the Saucepan Fairy.