Sunday, June 27

friday and saturday

The night club Friday night out was quite a success. We got a table. At first I imagined the others hated the music, so I couldn't settle in. Once I realised they were enjoying it, even the cellmate, I relaxed.

The compositions and arrangements were imaginative and full of light and shade, not what you might expect of jazz fusion. The performers were far too good to be playing for peanuts in a small venue.

Some of the soloing, on guitar, keyboard, and various saxes, fair took the breath away. It would have taken away the hearing too, if I hadn't had earplugs.

I bought the only round, but they only wanted water so I shouted myself a whole bottle of lite beer.

Saturday. Dog walk to supermarket. Scrabble - I won, not that it matters at all, except that the prize was bonkoid. Afternoon nap. I cooked a brilliant lamb casserole with leeks, parsnip, carrot, rosemary and wine.

We watched the first episode of the new Mad Men DVD - series 3. Twelve more episodes to go, so maybe we'll watch another one on Sunday. The upside of living in a country where it's not broadcast on TV - you can get the DVD and schedule it as you like. It all balances up.


  1. Albert? What an exciting life you have!! Going to a club to get deafened by some jazz fusion uber racket with folk who you obviously couldn't speak to who were drinking water! What times! And you won at Scrabble!! Life can't get much better than this, surely. Sorry, you also watched the telly!! Aint that something! Nae bliss, nae rapture, nae ecstasy? Thank God you still have the chance to demonstrate the prostate massage feather dance to your new next door neighbours. If it wasn't for that, you'd be as well blowing your brains out! Hope this helps all flatheids who read it. Hotboy

  2. Hotters. I told you the pub would unbalance you. This is probably why wise flatheids drink water. Next thing, you'll be back on the nicotine dragon. Hopeless.

  3. Albert? How astute on the addiction front! Tomorrow I get paid and will see the man outside the school gates, and thus change addictions. I'm not sure which addictions I was substitute for what, but I will not do so in the company of stupid flatheids who go to jazz clubs and drink water. Charlie Parker eat your heart out! Just as well you got the din excluding any chance of that these bourgeois morons might want to talk about. Pension plans, or holidays with their grannies. God almighty! I could blow my own brains out just thinking about it. I'd rather talk to your dog. Hoping this helps all the flatheids who read this. Hotboy

  4. Stupid flatheids? I think you're recognising that some flatheids are smart. There's hope for you yet. PS a noisy club is the best place to go with deifheids. Not that they actually were, since I've succeeded in clearing the real deifheids out of my life. Hurray!