He and Mrs Psychbloke certainly frightened my earnest glitch-electronica friends with their crazed table dancing antics and Sugarbabes fixations. Mrs Psychbloke more than freaked me out with a demise that went from all to nothing in an instant as if somehow someone had told a joke that managed to completely switch off the human central nervous system...
In another room, my old mate T is playing game after game of International Master level internet speed chess with Mongolians and Moldovan Grand Masters, separated only by the odd trip into the kitchen to pour himself another pint of vile cocktail juice...
Outside the rest of us are standing in the street watching the firework Blitz come down as we come up... I'm getting Pompey pixellations: "the man i saw becomes a bird. All the sky is filled with fountains. My head falls back so far it hurts..."
...there's a few arguments about what music we should be playing...someone's angling for Rachel Stevens, someone else keeps insisting on the Wurzels.
I'm glugging tequila sunrises and trying to keep everyone happy: The Venetian Snares are doing my head in so then Clouddead (cheers for the new Cd Kempernorton) come on but seem too skewed somehow so then I try to dance myself out of the delirium by putting on Coil's AYOR and meditating on the odd Jhonn Balance funeral card that came through the post that day (Did anyone else get one of these? Beautiful picture of Jhonn)...
N is sitting in a room full of balloons, holding an inflatable bird and talking to a
cat on the telly...
D is panicking because M is trying to light rockets in the back garden...nothing is helping the astral communication pathways...
...but AYOR (or maybe my dancing) is scaring people so we switch to some Plant Mucomplilation that Gutterbreakz will no doubt know and then it's only about 2 o'clock and some of my friends leave for their B&B taking their beautiful blonde nippers with them and this causes my wife and into 15mins of hippie depression until L puts on the largest shoes ever made and cracks everyone up...
4 o'clock comes and my wife talks me out of getting the kids up - I need some small people (i'm calling them munties) around me, all these adults are freaking me out...
At 6 it's pretty much just me and a few others left and by then I'm already in a mad cleaning mode... i think for a moment of starting up a Zen Cleaning Business...
T is furious about some Serbian who's just beaten him at chess...he mumbles something about how weird it is that Miss Universe is always won by Earthlings and then downs another pint of Martini mix...
At 7 o'clock I realise with horror that the time to sleep has passed because the kids have come down and are requiring their Weetabix/ Sugar Puffs fixes...I put on Cloudead again and hope for the best...
In the morning, just the one dialysis machine was needed; Kempernorton is about to spend the duration of Football Focus re-investigating his Martini Cubensis via the perfectly turned surface of the guest loo.
Happy New Year, folks!
1 comment:
Well, if your mates will insist on slagging off her Bridget Jones CD....
Seriously - better she goes quickly, or, as you know, she gets belligerent.....
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