They can seep.
Moonmilk spills from an unquiet skull.
etc.
but I can't get beyond the fact that when I woke up I was accidentally obsessed with a band called Ultra Milkmaids.
I've never heard anything by these guys, never even consciously heard of them but, nevertheless, there they were, like they'd been there forever.
I wasn't even sure there was a band called Ultra Milkmaids but I made up my mind to start one if I found out there wasn't.
(it's been colder recently, hasn't it? So very cold...)
I checked my i-pod, maybe a track has sneaked on there in one of my downloading frenzies (no mean feat with my valve-powered, hamster-wheeling dial-up connection), maybe somehow it had leaked out of the internet and found its way into my ears.
(when i was small the thought of earwigs was terrifying beyond belief)
Nothing.
So I checked the internet and, sure enough, there they were. They did exist and they even sounded a little like I might like them; mentions of Fennesz and My Bloody Valentine and drones etc.
How they got into my head I have no idea* but, just recently, the kebab has started to look at me kinda funny even before I eat it... I dunno, there's just something about the way it folds its flesh, or how the onion slivers just glance off the top rather than burrowing deep, or how the pitta bread never seems quiet so magnificiently sated with grease and grime...
You have to wonder what the world's coming to when even Ultra Mermaids are messing with your breakfast.
They started as a punk band and then found themselves morphing inexorably towards the blissout of drone and static and now they've seemingly entered an odd juncture of psychophysics and mind control, beaming messages out across the Channel to hapless Sad Dad bloggers who, like drones will bend to their will and start spreading the news, even if it is about 3 years too late...
I am not a number...
It goes without saying that I've heard none of these songs and will never hear them. I imagine they're very good and, sometimes, imagination is enough.
*I have an idea but right now if I told you I'd have to let you kill me.
Oh, and what the hell has happened to Bumrocks? That red is like an Italian Horror.
2 comments:
Bugger all that - where's the party photos?
milky maids - mmmmmmmm
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