“I love to drive.
La la la la.
Loud and fast and clear.
I love drive.
La la la la.
Don’t care what time of the year.
The more i drive,
the more I fill with glee
and the more the glee
the more I’m a merrier me
Some people drive awful skodas
And they sound something like this
“ra ra ra ra ra ra skoda….ra” (dreadful)
Some people drive bent out Beatles
Hissing and fizzing like snakes-ss-sss-sss-ss-ss
(not at all attractive to my way of thinking)
Some drive too fast
Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrom Bang”
That’s me. I had a supermarket scrape. Car bruised. Shouldn’t have been listening to show tunes.
Permalink
1 Comment
Ever wonder how these grass roots jazz bands* grow up?
*[Men with thinning hair who spend a lot of time playing with their instrument, accompanied by uneamployed 21 year olds who think they're the next Oscar Peterson; young, never nubile, girls who jump around like Jazz singing is some form exercise routine ... but whom are looked upon with lust by the baldheaded saxophonist ( the kind of guy who learnt to play so he could 'get chicks'. )
The saxophone makes him look less of a (his name is Bernard by the way) peodophile.]
They use jazzmeup it’s like internet dating for the “hipNhappenin’ “.
MR tries to persuade me on stage. “You’re a knockout.” He tells me. Last time I checked I didn’t have the jawline of Rocky Balboa, nor the touching story of the underdog, the hat, bad lighting, and cliched gang of cohorts; but what can I say? MR is a writer, he knows metaphor. I don’t argue with metaphor, but still I graciously decline.
“Fuck that.” I respond, Holly Golightly couldn’t be more graceful. “My days of being touched inappropriately by men with overdeveloped forearms in the name of basementmusicwank are a….” says I. Thinking: One day…. One day, Bernard might be mine. “…thing of the not too distant future.”
On stage Bernard grabs my ass. Is this what it is to be loved?
Permalink
Leave a Comment
What I wouldn’t have given for a slice of cheese on toast last night. With Pepper. But nooooooooooooooooooooo
Thai food. MR is a big fan.
I ate a massive hunk of raw chili by accident that made half my face go NUMB.
Nibbles were off the menu last night. We got home and I accidentally put my finger in my eye. My eye went numb. Then the earlier plan began aplomb. Oh my….if only we had recognized the warning signs.
Needless to say that Chili is a difficult acid to remove from the mouth and fingertips.
“Surprising.”
Is how I would describe the events of procreation. MR concurred.
“Definitely surprising.”
Things were red raw this morning. Smokin’
Permalink
Leave a Comment
