After a day of struggling through a migraine and chest pains, I completed my lesson plans for my students, and sat down to watch Everton-Dinamo Bucharest (Dinamo Idetest).

As a Liverpool supporter, I was behind Everton, and even more so after DB showed that they cannot (only) play football but use every form of gamesmanship known to the world...and more. (I accept they have quality players and sometimes show raw talent.)
Everton, you can take heart, you restored passion against animals hell bent on causing injury. The challenge made on Arteta is one of the sickest aerial challenges I've seen since the infamous Schummacher 'kick-to-kill' on Patrick Battiston in 1982, when France were leading, and controlling Germany 3-1. The sight of Battiston so affected the team, and indeed Michel Platini in particular, (who can remember seeing him clutching the hand of an unconscious Battiston being taken off on a stretcher?). The savagery far overshadowed a classic game, perpetrated by a 'man' not fit to ever grace a football field, and France were levelled in more ways than one, 3-3 after extra time and defeat on penalties...the nice guys had lost. Though the outfield German team were gifted, it has to be said, Rummenigge in particular.

And so the most innappropriately named, Mihaita Plesan, decided to accelerate at the leaping Arteta, with back to himself, made impact with such ferocity, that Arteta's frame mimicked a car accident scene, the culprit a madman, like a hit and run, a scene fit for criminal proceedings. Arteta's body has helpless as he took the full unsuspecting impact and his head flopped and hit the floor at terrifying speed, hence the visions we've all scene of the need for seat belts from whiplash injuries. He suffered a fit on the pitch and needed 7 or 8 minutes emergency treatment, while Plesan watched on, with only a yellow card to his disgraced name.
There was real fear witnessing the trembling legs of Arteta who seemed out cold, but today we learn he came round, and may be OK soon, thank God. In hindsight, he is lucky that he was not permanantely injured, or even worse....it hardly bares thinking about...
James Beattie is not my favourite player, but I felt enormous empathy with him when he went into that challenge on the culprit, Plesan, afterwards. Yes, that is exactly how I felt too!!
But, Everton, naturally, and Neville in particular, looked shaken...as did everyone other than Plesan.

I would also like to praise the conduct of Everton players after such a revolting challenge...I would never have been able to keep my emotions under control. Plesan went in to hurt, in the 88th or 89th minute and he did so...I just hope when he sees the replay, he too will hurt for the rest of his career, it was shameful, unnecesary and the act of a footballer in need of help. He is clearly using football as an 'excuse' for something else. The wrong team progressed to the next stages...not for footballing reasons, but for the true spirit of football. If modern football is the world of actors, thugs, hit and run tacklers who are allowed to almost maim fellow professionals, then I turn off.
I love the aggressive game, hard tackler's etc, but when you see a team acting AND breaking opposing players in two...well...

Again I emphasise my allegiance to Liverpool, but show enormous solidarity with Everton after that...they have their respect, they have MY respect, and who are the real winners of that game...certainly NOT Dinamo Bucharest.

Everton, a climb up the table awaits, and above all, a speedy recovery for Arteta, a far more gifted player than Mihaita Plesan can ever hope to be...football will be restored shortly!!!

Colour: Blue and black
Music: Radiohead: A Wolf at the Door
Heather Nova: Blue Black
Chemical Brothers: Push the Button

With a shot of pain, aching through another sickening migraine,
You have lain beneath the vision I had,
but learn I have to see you in a new light hitherto unknown-
you're animal, poacher, seducer, cursed
with 'you-are-me' eyes, drawn in black ink...
growling, loving, soothing voice seeking my mother tongue
as I sought refuge in yours
rain thundering hard above us
in garden-green coloured decaying shelter
you upon my knee - and escaping nowhere was our empathy
raindrops sneaking through cracked Victorian slate
onto your cheek, and where our lips did meet
my coat, my hood, your wet, long jet black hair...
our time, our embrace, our bodies entwined
your koi-patterned top, you allowed to drop
there it fell, along with the rain and our love.

Colour: Grey/blue
Music: Tricky: Maxinquaye (an absolute masterpiece)
Mylene Farmer: l'amour naissant

So, the 'special ones' cancelled each other out, 0-0, surprise, surprise. Who would bet against the same scoreline at Stamford Bridge in the return leg??
But the Premiership fixture, I am convinced, will bring at least one goal...because now, in the three Champions League games between the two clubs have produced all of one goal, and how important that one was...as they said on 5 Live last night, 'Liverpool now have the measure of Chelsea' ...yes, they do indeed, and nobody else in England can claim that!

Apparently, the local news announced that a report has found that dear ol' Norfolk is one of the most expensive places in Britain to buy a pint of beer. Why....why us?? No-one is questioning the report, but we're all shocked.
Home brew my friends, home brew...~~~
It went on to say that we in Norfolk are also the nation's worst drivers...like hell we are...

My dream last night was symbolic, yet abstract, whereby I had been invited to my mother's home region of France, though family were not involved in the dream at all.
A 'meeting' had been arranged with a literary lady, French, and of some great mystery and respect. We met, in a beautiful tin can development, the pride of modern France, but inside, for our coffee, we were amidst basketball courts, and low lighting. Anyway we chatted about life, literature, books, queues, and people, as the sporty types hurled basketballs around us.

Colour: Autumn gold
Music: Mylene Farmer: Innamoramento
Reading: Rupert Brooke

Happy, happy was I to share what we could not deny
for you and I were ever chasing the tide
turned against us as keen as the wind
of change in our hearts entwined though they were.

You were slender in eastern sky blues shining in the whites
of my eyes, which in turn dived into the deepest
shallows of your all conquering black eyes
calling to our shelter beneath those pines

A love so alive, yet laid so low ...for so long
one smile, touch, glance, tone or ...kiss
unfazed by rain pouring down on those famous white cliffs
crawling to our shelter beneath those pines

Your blues and whites slipping so low
soft sounds enhanced with eyes closed
as precious moments shared have now
slipped from our shelter that was beneath those long gone pines.

2-1! Norwich managed a good performance, at least AFTER going one down on 84...seconds! But thereafter the performance which brought two goals before half-time was reminiscent of the Championship winning season two years ago. The second-half was a scrap, but they won and please let this be the serious start to the season. Huckerby had a very good game, and they really should have added a third before the HT whistle. Anyway, Norfolk is happy enough today...

Tonight it's Liverpool and Chelsea...the battle of the two 'special ones' and I feel Liverpool have to get in front tonight. I'm confident they can get another draw at Stamford Bridge, but tonight needs the spirit of that first-half performance against Juventus last season. Even a slender one goal advantage, I feel, will be enough to take to Chelsea in the return leg.
I do not know if Chelsea are any better than they were last season, or, for that matter, if Liverpool are...but I know in a Champions League fixture, LFC can win...and I keep my fingers crossed for that.
September and May are very different in footballing terms!

This morning is again beautifully clear and sunny, a glorious September is upon us here in the far-east of England, and I started my day with Jordan's Country Crisp, my daily does of coffee and tounyuu.
Actually, every day I start with a lot of water, a cleanser, and then an hour later, a conventional breakfast. I miss lunch sometimes, but never can pass on my breakfast...this is, as many say, the most important for me. Whether it be toast and cheese, wholemeal bread and salami, cornflakes...or (from a recent suggestion), porridge.

Yesterday, I seemed to have a blackout on my stairs, and fell...I can't remember how or why it happened, but fall I did, and lucky I am...I must have fallen from the turn of flight, and twisted my knee and ankle, as that was heaving with pain after I came round.
...but one hour later, a nice warm hug from a friend helped get me back on me feet!!

= If you try to fail, but succeed, which one have you done? =

Colour: Burlywood
Music: The Specials: Do Nothing
Reading: "The Game" supplement

Simple food today did me well...for breakfast toast topped with a slice of Maasdam, and some coffee with Chinese soya beans added, and that was fine to start my working day...lunch is almost always rice, but today I went head first for good old English and made myself some sausage, beans, and fried egg with milk! (My friend said that nobody drinks milk anymore...but I dispute that.)
I enjoy my food very much these days, because I chop and change regularly, eat simply, and sometimes not at all, so when I do cook, or eat out, it is seldom extravagant, but always nice.
I can't abide waste, and worse than that, seeing people at buffet restaurants, scooping up termite nest-sized portions, only to leave most of it. WASTEful.
Only as much as is necessary is my motto.
Last night my gregarious student, looked upon my friend, the hedgehog, as a meal, and made a lunge for him...thank goodness I interceded and saved the spiked visitor.

Has anyone tried balot

Colour: autumnal golden brown
Music: Electric Pulse: White Noise
Reading: Poets of the First World War

Heavenly food that simply disappears from your plate
dreams that uncannily reappear as your fate
re-reading your words that echo away my days
travelling in your memory through a drunken haze

stirring the cup where your lips lay
drinking the same sencha from this cup of clay
-my lips where your lips lay-
stirring my senses this very day

The hum of washing being spun proficiently
typing thoughts wistfully
police siren beyond sycamore shield
Norwich, September morning thus does yield...
...to the haze above the trudging wheels
and thoughts a plenty of undone deals
incomes sought beyond feelings fraught
on roundabouts we're hopelessly caught
quick-charge! between bus and corner-cutter
this life is, God forbid, my bread and butter.

Colour: White and blue
Music: System of a Down: Chic 'N' Stu
Reading: Rupert Brooke: The Collected Poems

What makes you happiest...
good food or good money?

(When I say 'good food' it can be an apple...a fish caught by someone who only seeks a meal, or well prepared hand-picked, hand-caught foods, like fish dishes....my principle is the food around us in this world, the basics, however well-prepared they may be. Food in the traditional sense.)
I know my answer as clear as anything!

Listen up! I want to call the ones with tears in their eyes,
fears in their inner recesses,
To those with laughter and smiles from ear to ear and...
the ones I've loved, love, and the ones I should love more,
to those of you I hurt,
helped, saved and cradled...
the ones who I stopped from doing the most final and dreadful of acts...
...I'm SO glad to still see you with us, oh so glad,
to my music buddies, to Friday hungry tummies, soccer friends...
so ridiculous, hilarious, paranoid, insane and annoying,
and the precious, hilarious, lovable and most highly respected...
fellow bloggers, and blog buddies...
my words hereafter are plain and very simple...
I want to drink with you, and tell you that you all have played a rôle in my world.
Thank you, ALL.

(I'm drinking ONE whisky, but I mean these words so sincerely, and truly. I'd never have written them otherwise....the sip of Mekhong just gave me the push to say it...at last.
I lay myself down, as human, with failings, with hopes, loves, sacrifices and ambitions,
cravings, longings, yearnings a plenty,
moods and blues, helter skelter again,
...going too far to fall short,
...I'm human, only, merely, simply...because tonight I truly WANT to be!!)

Colour: Caramel
Music: Mads Arp ft Julie Harrington: Slow it Down (Mathilda mix)
Reading: you

Part of you is genius while another is absurd,
part of me seeks perfection while the other is reserved
I give my unreserved attention,
to your absurd imperfections
-ingenuously we seek...
...in each other

Today started cold, with a beautiful sunrise illuminating the early morning dew, trickling off the snail-trail-marked greenhouse glass, and onto yesterday's freshly cut grass, still filling the crisp air.
As the sun touches my plants one by one, the autumn sun never seems in a hurry, it appears that Spiderman paid me a visit, with cobwebs abseiling across the entire garden and house from sycamore and limes, dark with the glare of horizontal sun rays...the autumn light is indeed fascinating.
It appears that everything is more alive now than in the manic growing days of spring, and heightened crops of summer...as September is a month where we ALL notice and expect change, which will touch us all, with varying certainty.

Last night I was lured by my summer purchase in Hamm, Germany...so I had some Mekhong Thai whisky with peanuts, and it burnt some happiness right through the very heart of me. Thank you Mekhong, thank you Thailand.
And some good news was forthcoming, Sainsbury's have started selling Candia milk...my childhood favourite...so there goes another secret~~~

This afternoon, I'll find a quiet spot, to draw, with pen and ink. It's been lacking of late as taking photos, teaching, and physiotherapy have ruled the roost regards time.
So, with that in mind, I'll try to finish off my sketches, some going back to last autumn in Japan, where I sketched in Chiba, Tokyo, and especially in Kyoto. Now I want to finish off the last remaining ones.
My good friends and I all sketched in our unique ways, added rhymes for our hidden sighs, and displayed our work with collected pride...if only because we did it all together, the three of us. My two friends storybook style is wonderful, and shows purity, and mine was added for politeness sake only...but a memory of tremendous value all the same.
My Shizuoka friend promised me a February picnic, in England...!!!

Colour: Red
Music: Stereophonics: Dakota
Reading: Japan's Underwater City

Damn!
A third puncture since June, and this time it annoys me significantly more, because on the cycle route some thoughtful lad decided to devote a fair few minutes to laying a pack of drawing pins, upright of course, and slightly submerged in the sandier parts. As I reached the suburban roads, I heard a very regular tik-tik-tik...and it was only when I got home, 5 minutes later, that I realised I had a golden drawing pin smiling at me. Mozzy pin maybe.
But even now, the tyre is fine, but the whoosh of air as I pulled out this pin is not on...however, the local cycle shop know me pretty well now.
It brought back visions of Stanley pulling something similar out of Ollie's car, blowing his hat off. My hands held outwards and upwards to the sky was my instinctive and immediate, unconscious Stanley impersonation!

On the radio just now they were going through THEIR most annoying songs, and one that was selected was "Together in Electric Dreams" by Giorgio Moroder and Phil Oakley...without wishing to give my opinion on that hit, ( ~^,^~ ) it is one of those tunes that sticks around like a wasp...however hard you sweep the mind's floor, or swat the irritation, the tune touches down again and again and again.
Have you got any songs that immediately shut-down the brain?
Songs which you hate so much they intensify while in your mind?
Those songs that enter the head, and just will not go away, however hard you try?
Tunes that feed on thought, halt work and reduce you to standstill, like admiring a great tree in the evening, and as you get closer, find yourself amidst a cloud of flies that take to you instantly...or worse, a bluebottle falling into your coffee...(worse on TWO fronts that one!)

Food feast, and a party for the taste buds was today's highlight. That and buying underlay for the kitchen! I thought I should buy System of a Down's new cd, but funked it...next time for sure.
Last night, I cooked my favourite meal...omelette with very thinly sliced onions, five eggs, mushrooms, parsley and formaggio grattugiato cheese. Not over done, on the contrary, I prefer it underdone to allow the freshness to mellow in nature's own time. This added to Thai rice was the meal for my homestay student and myself...and I set the table, called him, when, unexpectedly, a friend called at my back door to see Morris Womble Blogflirt and 'shyeye' Rodders the guinea pigs. So I introduced them with glee.
Well, it lasted all of 5 minutes, and when I returned to my table, I was aghast...empty seats, empty glass, empty plate, and ... empty everything...all my omelette, ALL the rice cooker full of Thai rice...gone. Where the hell does HE put it all???
He also smokes a pipe, and it got blocked yesterday, so he grabbed my 35 cms long pine needles souvenir from a temple in Kyoto to unblock it...I saw red~!
I sought solace in an apricot slice crumble washed down with Twinnings orange, ginger and honey tea.

My dream last night, after that crap, was bizarre. It all started well enough...I nodded off to the sound of Black Hole Sun and pretty soon, the land of nod took me to Switzerland, and the new Euro-style city architecture before me...orderly, pristine, suitable, functional without anything being singularly outstanding...though the overall effect was impressive. There was a river running between concrete embankments, trees were new and none within the dreaming eye's vicinity were more than 10 years old. It was, at a guess, late August and I was, kind of, house-hunting. Hills gave way to distant mountains, and pedestrian ways to a sensibly planned area of appartments. I felt one was 'home' on a third floor of four. By this time, on foot, my parents appeared behind me, and a partner who never spoke a word...strange.
Without ever reaching or seeing 'my' appartment, (which had been the purpose of the walk), I had an nagging need for...yes, a Post Office what else!! I was seeking a yellow PO sign, and was lured into a library area, which too was not such an old building. This building had a high ceiling in one part, the older structure, but had a walkway, near a beautifully sunny courtyard which was busy with contentment and trotting locals. Through another walkway, all well-ordered and silent, an archway was passed through, and into some form of cathedral. Within a milli-second long queues opened up before our eyes, and I followed the PO queue, which moved forward, slowly, in dull light and silence, always at right angles...until what seemed to be a cloister broke the forward movement. The queues were all single file, and at the cloister point, my grandmother sprung forth, expressing 'the way of things in here'. My grandmother speaks no English in real life, and in this dream she spoke no words, and yet her message was clear...because just beyond her, was a dead-straight queue, breaking up my own Post Office queue...this other queue, again single file and silent, was heading into a darkened area, seemingly a prayer area...and it spelt some sort of trepidation.
I was totally unsure as to how to cross this line...and it was my grandmother who told me the way and manner in which to do it...

Each new day we are awoken by it's presence
it gives us light a plenty, for the time of brightness,
is limited by it's own continuation
it turns to shine on others while outside our gaze,
those moments, darkened and restless
Sensitive - a time of reflection...
everything that I am, has been illuminated by you
even those still moments watching you,
intimately setting from my bubbled bath
or a tree-lined path,
you've shadowed me all my known life
especially in the days of my youth-
when you seemed to shine endlessly, watching over playful innocence,
you altered (a) little as years passed, your warmth always welcome
you can dazzle, you can oppress, burn, invigorate, heal or kill
but I know, tomorrow morning, I'll be looking out for you

Music: Groove Armada: Goodbye Country (hello nightclub)
Colour: cream
Food: Belgian waffle biscuits filled with vanilla. Oh my~~~
Reading: La Zizanie

A water mark on the reverse of a long-forgotten cd case
a moment of carelessness, thoughtfulness, focused...
in a time past, thoughtlessness travels fast,
being who you were listening to the music that overcame your blue,

what do you feel now, as you listen and
clean away the stain of those years past?
now crisp, clean and immaculate the outside gleams
as the music recedes again, returning when the dust itches away at your subconscience.

Music: Zazie: Dans la Lune

it speaks to me when I hurt,
and seethes at me when I work,
piles on the day glowing through the dirt
and melts away the underlay of Nemisis

calling when a clue is sought from frosts at dawn
elusive as the sun searching the ground through pines,
abundant is the dawn chorus which awakened my first post,
as the last post never ends for those that never saw

laughing at what might have been, and what was
in the wades of our summer loving
falling over you, into you, for you, ...with you...
was to come one with THE one

sharing when all hope is lost in the flicker of early autumn winds
a shuddering beat from september's lost heat,
ensuring the clearest of big skies can succumb to the sea,
as my greatest feelings come from the music within me。

Music: Portishead: Dummy
Reading: Matthew Parris: A Castle in Spain, (extract)

show it to me, now, come on, please,
and I'll show you mine also,
it's the only time, now or never,
so please, never say never,
because I'll say it,
never again

My French Grandmother now finds herself stuck for the remainder of her life in a large, brash nursing home, and her house, which was filled with thousands of memories, the family meeting place, annual summer home, my teenage years were spent there, and the chime of a 1930's clock ringing forevermore in my mind.
Grandfather died a year ago, and it destroyed my Grandmother who now cannot recognise any of us. It has in turn, hurt my mother more than she'll ever show. To travel from Norwich to France, visit your mother and be told, by her, (my grandmother to my mother), "who are you?" is very, very hard. To see her face crumbling with realisation was torturous. If a family means anything, it'll be felt deep in the heart.
The remaining days were spent with the dispersal of her 'effects' (I loathe this word now), and thus honouring her wishes. Seeing such familiar items as a beehive-shaped honey pot, some nesquick breakfast bowls, a pastis bottle-top measuring piece...each bring back countless stories, crystal clear memories, perfect snapshots, relatives departed, and the roots in France, weakened and exposed.
I could look at my Grandmother's photo only the once. The vision is as strong as any.
'Lauren6' is in honour of my departed relatives...they live on, and so do I, for now, with love.

Music: Jam & Spoon ft Plavka: Kaleidoscope Skies
PiL: Public Image
Zazie: Zen, Au Diable nos Adieux, J'envoie Valser.

Les troubadours, les malandrins.me suivent de près.quand je vais dans la salle de bain.les canaris et les serinsm'envient ce doux bruit.que je fais le matin...les troubadours le savent bien.qu'importe l'humeur.toutes les heures.sonnent bien.ils sont pas sourds comme les voisins.qui pensent que je déménage.que je vais pas bien.qui veulent que je déménage.parait qu'c'est pour mon bien...je chante la la la.sur tous les airs.et sur tous les tons.tu n'es pas là là là.et y a guère.que l'écho qui répond.et j'ai le la bémol.plaqué au sol...depuis j'attends le jour.où, l'air de rien.tu viendras me faire.de la mousse dans le bain.tu sais que les mots d'amour.ça s'entend de loin.comme les scènes de ménage.et les bêtes en cage.comme les bruits de casserole.et les rossignols...ça fait des la la lasur tous les airs.et sur tous les tons.tu n'es pas là là là.et y a guère.que l'écho qui répond.je chante la la la.des notes en l'air.et des sanglots longs.tu n'es plus là là là.et la sirène.se change en poisson...et j'ai le la bémol.plaqué au solet j'ai le la mineur.plaqué au cœur

-Zazie, La La La

I learnt today that 1-in-5 people using the internet, do so with the radio on, (seperately)...and that would include me.
I would have thought it was higher than that actually...wouldn't you?
The internet is full of scope, though a touch lifeless sometimes, (but becoming more personal recently, on a positive note, as opposed to hitherto impersonal computers)...and the radio is a perfect accompaniment...as is tea...it all goes together, routinely for me, the only detail being which station. Though I do also have music too...
For now, it's BBC Radio Norfolk, with the Norwich City report...(they won 2-0 tonight!).

Has anyone seen the Japanese housewife's dream invention, of a smallish cubicle which can be fitted, tastefully, in the main room of a home, fitting all of the man's 'rubbish toys' such as PC, papers, hifi, games etc), and thus leaving the home uncluttered with HIS crap. It is also soundproof and can host up to 5 of HIS friends, complete with fridge and beer compartment! It is surely a sad answer steming from division, but may also be a saving grace too?
Maybe.

Another interesting thing....when I do my cycle therapy, I have worn various t-shirt's, but the different reactions I've had from the Italian t-shirt, (white with blue lettering), and the Deutschland t-shirt, (white with black), is amazing. The Italian t-shirt has been greeted with warmth, smiles and general happiness...but the Deutschland one, which is actually cooler in my opinion, has had a 'stand firm' attitude from fellow cyclists and walkers. Well...it's still me...hmm, ...don't answer that!

I've returned from l'hopital and heeded a friend's email advice...that is to stay away from my beloved salami. I refrained from buying any...so thank you last week for that...your words have helped change a small part of my diet, thus protecting my heart.

Now, I must tackle this 'outbreak' of red ants attacking my keyboard, ...where did they all come from??
今、眠たい。。。おやすみなさい。

Music: High Contrast: Remember When
Tosca feat. Anna Clementi: Oscar
Gorillaz: Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Music: Massive Attack: Risingson
Book: Toyohiko Kagawa: Songs from the Slums

You came with your partner in late snows,
To discover the offerings of our table,
Shyly you did scuttle,
by side fence and path,
but recently your visits have increased,
as your partner has ceased
being anymore than a glorious memory,
and for you I offer food a plenty

you're up, you're down,
we're sick, we're proud,
you're here, you're there,
we're lost, you're found,
you're hot, I'm cold...
I was dreaming, I'm awakening...

...to a gorgeous sunrise, full of reds, yellows, oranges and that taboo word, magenta, over Norfolk reedbeds, bus-free-car-free-bus-lanes tempting us, ever more..
cars before us,
and ever later am I
sure this is the only way to go.

Right! Now, I'm awake...

Last night, my student seemed to want a 'man's talk' over my home-made lasagne.
Well, last week he told me he was a happy virgin, but last night he told me how well he can 'keep it up' and usually scores '7shots' most nights. Huh? Bit of egoism there, with that turnaround in one week.
Either that, or Norwich has a lot going on these days!
But he is looking bloody knackered every morning, and his lethargy, tomcatface, and eating habits have changed considerably in one week, (and his cheese craving has, at last, subsided), confirming a changed lifestyle, if not a changed 'man'.
I've now hidden my waffles and cheez-whiz in my garage.
How many of you have hidden food?
I've just admitted it, so you can too!!

Music: Gorillaz: Dare
Bauhaus: Double Dare
999: Emergency
+Buzzcocks: Sixteen Again...

Feeling like I’m almost sixteen again
Layin’ ’round doing nothing like all my friends
Play it cool don’t get angry count up to ten
Just like I was sixteen again

Everybody gets the lowdown right from the start
Everybody gets the showdown right from the heart
But that’s all that’s on the menu and life’s a la carte
I don’t know

Things in life are not played for keeps
If it makes you happy it’ll make you weep
And if you want some more practical advice
If you can’t think once then don’t think twice
Cos things won’t seem so nice
You’ll wish you were sixteen again
Oh no

Feeling rather strange when you’re sixteen again
Things don’t seem the same the past is so plain
This future is our future this time’s not a game
This time you’re sixteen again

Always on your own when there’s nobody else
Asking myself would I be someone else
But after all life’s only death’s recompense
I don’t know

Things in life are not played for keeps
If it makes you happy it’ll make you weep
And if you want some more practical advice
If you can’t think once then don’t think twice
Cos things won’t seem so nice
You’ll wish you were sixteen again
Oh no

Look at me here I am for your eyes
Mirrored proof of what you recognize
I know I never will feel quite like you
And I know you won’t treat me right till I do
But at least we’ll know it’s true
That we’re sixteen again
Oh no

Feeling rather strange when you’re sixteen again
Things don’t seem the same the past is so plain
This future is our future this time’s not a game
This time you’re sixteen again

Always on your own when there’s nobody else
Asking myself would I be someone else
But after all life’s only death’s recompense
I don’t know

Look at me here I am for your eyes
Mirrored proof of love’s suicide
I know I never will feel quite like you
And I know you won’t treat me right till I do
But at least we’ll know it’s true
That we’re sixteen again
Oh no

Sixteen again
Sixteen again

You know, I am at breaking point with these f--- kitchen phone calls. The double-glazing f's have gone into folklore, but the recent kitchen company ones are nauseating squirts, or in Norfolk, squits, (which is another matter!)
They seem to offer a splash-out, flash-stinking-rich kitchen 'all for you my dear' on condition that the house becomes a 'hidden detail' showroom, a prime commercial space, how a typical kitchen can look in a REAL home, for the public to view at anytime...like hell it does.
'Why, why, why sir, you not like new fitted kitchen of modern taste that delights the heart?'
=because I have a brain, albeit small, but it works!
'But sir, you not say yes, you will not know the cuisinary works of art that you can create and can befit you and your lifestyle.'
=Hey, you know me, you know what I cook, (can I cook???), and you know I invite people here???
'But you sound like you do.'
=Oh yeah...my deepening tones, and cracking knuckles indicate as such do they?
'Well, it is all for you, really, all for you, we only seek comfort and enjoyment for people like you. It is our belief that every family should have this right.'
=To never get to ones own kitchen, because of the Tokyo-tube-train-like crowding??
'Oh, but sir, but sir, you miss the point...'
=No, no, noooooooooooo more....
etcetcetc.

The original kitchenshitnonconformist

In two weeks time our suburb will have a council meeting to discuss...lime tree deposits.
It is actually a very serious issue. These beautiful trees are depositing enough 'syrup' onto our cars, houses, and grass, to corrode all in it's wake...my grass is burnt and dead, my Japanese willow is growing only on one side, my car wipers, neighbours also, refuse to wipe unless they are bathed first, (I know that feeling!), and the worst, is this blackening of everything, (indeed, the repair of the car's bodywork is now a costly business)...the gates are sticky black instead of reddish brown, the Norwich red brick walls have blackened, the windows have a black hue every morning, and my window cleaner said, it looks like this whole area has been torched outside the houses.
When a councillor drove in my neighbours car, he said, 'By crickey, how the blazes d'ya drive with winda's like dat?'
Neighbour was quick to try the wipers which heaved and puffed with no movement forthcoming. 'Because they are bloody stuck with lime syrup, that's why!'
Councillor then went red and arranged this upcoming meeting!!
Now, I must say, I love trees, and make a point of planting at least 50 every year, which I have managed since I was 12. And NOBODY wants them cut down...this is very important...we only want a neighbourhood syrup-free zone and trimmed branches. Simply, nothing more.
I guess it'll also be a scurvy-free zone too...???

Music: Soundgarden: Superunknown, (esp. Head Down, track 6)
Gorillaz: Demon Days
ABBA: Mama Mia...because of the TV in the background