I got so bored of having a blog where nothing worked that I have ixnayed it altogether. From now on the only fluffy kittens on this bastard will be the ones posted from stuff on my cat! Oh yez!
OIR has finally succumbed to the blog phenomenon and you can read her here. I say read because unlike me, OIR actually writes great long diatribes about Things, whereas I tend to have a diatribe maybe once every two months and the rest of the time get distracted by links. That's the thing though, isn't it? If you spend your whole day writing, you don't tend to write for relaxation. Maybe I would if I were a poet like Barney, or reet musical like the Autistic Muso, but I'm not so there we go. I wrote and recorded some fairly terrible blues which these guys are apparently turning into an electro track, and more importantly I made a pom pom when on holiday. So I don't give a shit.
This weekend I'm spending my time interviewing people I really like. Interviewing is possibly my favourite music thing to do ever (except, errr, listening to it) and I'm VERY excited. And Paolo Nutini, who I can't get excited about at all, despite the Blonde Drama Queen's best efforts. Maybe he'll be lovely. Anyway.
So, tomorrow I will mostly be plugged into the computer, listening to a boatload of tunes and grinning like a lunatic about the fact I get to meet talented people who I admire and respect. Three days of gin will surely follow.
I would quite like some now in fact. But that would be wrong. Happy Birthday Mother Brown.
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