(written 9 December 2011)
with the lamp light falling down around my ears
falling away like a submarine
thank god today’s such miserable day
I couldn’t stand the demands
of a sunny day
with the people and the smiling and the phone conversation ‘bout the problems and the plans and the working it out
just coffee and the pigeons going coo-coo-ca-choo
and the keyboard and the words about today
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Not a lot of people know what Girl Talk is. I think you don’t know what Girl Talk is - you probably don’t. Don’t fret: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bMM7tGV9MI - there - now you are insanely much cooler that anyone else you know except me and Sarah Dawson, except Sarah Dawson has youth on her side which is cheating.
We had COP17 which was a fucking abomination, but the kids got to sit in a Nissan LEAF (how lame is that) and turn it on and listen to hear that they could hear nothing because the car uses the silent steady passage of ions between lithium and something else, instead of the persistent high-pressure explosion of flammable liquids, to make the engine run. We bought Coca-Cola, drank chilled water out of plastic cups and marvelled at a Gaia-with-blossoming-trees visualisation of tweets about climate change, happy in the coolth of airconditioning. All very useful and relevant stuff when it comes to dealing with fucked up shit. We saw a wonderful roof garden where they grow everything including brinjal, and I met a dude who countered that he likes brinjal…
Mark & I went to the football. What do we call it here? Football? Soccer? Why would we call it soccer when the rest of the world calls it football? So we went to the soccer at Moses Mabidha Stadium. Tip 1: Don’t get stoned until you’ve found a parking space. Tip 2: Juslaaaaaik - fuck! You have to go and watch soccer at the stadium. Jusis it’s just insanely amazing. We saw this dude with THE GHOST writ large across his back. I saw dudes solemnly holding up their arms crossed in front of their foreheads, making a cross-bones because they live for Pirates, we saw people in muti masks and one guy with a shrivelled head necklace. There was a dude with a fake AK47 for fuck’s sake. Oddly the action looks a lot smaller than on TV - like a highschool game. 10 minutes after we got there Pirates scored RIGHT THERE in front of us and my god the almighty thundering of triumphant joy that rose from the crowd blew me away completely. So that’s what it’s like… I mean I grew up at a private school and diving around Rockey Street so I never had a crowd jol going on - I’m not explaining this very well… Watching Metallica was really such a dwindling dribble of excitement compared to this.
Finding names for internet businesses is VERY HARD. Every good name you can think of - nope - it’s taken. So you land up with ungainly conglomerations with my and SA and z plastered all over your business name, or you land up with flingdoodle or momp or dotspaz something fucking stupid and inane. Hey look: puttyfuck.com is available! Awesome - let’s call our pet-care-booking website/online-project-management/airline-specials-aggregator puttyfuck.com! Quick - buy it before someone else does. Yeah! I mean I don’t even know what puttyfuck means. Do some people stock up on putty before the weekend and make it into vaginas? It sounds very unfriendly and messy and surely if you are into something like that there are other squishy things that aren’t actually putty - because putty smells funny and it’s meant for windows, not for fucking.
Bruce and The Band,
Tom
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