Got back to BJ yesterday....the horror of what awaited me hit me when I sat down at the gate at Heathrow...the familiar sound of throat-clearing & spitting. Dirty sods. I wanted to grab the microphone they use to say "Flight 0039 to Beijing is now boarding but DON'T STAMPEDE!" (which they always ignore) and shout "STOP SPITTING!! YOU AREN'T HOME YET!! WE DON'T DO THAT HERE IN BRITAIN!!" I wanted my last moments back home to last as long as possible!!!
The guy next to me on the plane smelled horrid, and thought the pull-down tray thing was a pillow, and spent most of the flight festering and snoring on it. I decided to watch some films instead of sleeping, which was bloody stupid...when we landed after a 10-hour flight, I got a taxi straight into work, luggage & all, so by the time I finally got to bed, I'd been up for 2 days. My pal told me there had been no hot water in the apartments for 4 days, so I had to have a cold shower...not a bad thing in my case usually, I admit, but I wasn't in he mood to be messed about last night. Even reading 'CHESHIRE LIFE' didn't settle me....reading 'DRUMMER' was more in keeping, but it made me realise I'd hardly played the electric set I bought here a while ago...when I was back in the UK, I BATTERED my proper kit when playing Led Zep's 'KASHMIR' with my son, till my ears hurt. ROCK AND ROLL!!! Think my daughter filmed it on my ipad, so I'll look back on that with a smile & bore everyone to death with it....
My plan to keep my plants alive while I was away backfired...I left them all in the sink with some water in...two were already dead, but I refuse to give up on them. In 'BEN HUR', at the end, when it rains, Ben's mam & sister are cured of leprosy by the rain, so I think one day, it'll piss down & my plants will come back to life. A third one died, presumably drowned...I assumed they just drunk as much as they needed? So in the countryside, if there's a heavy rainfall, how come all the trees, plants & grass don't drown? How come my plant did? Anyway, I'm down to one now. I'm gonna take real good care of it. I'd like a big one from the flower market near where I live - one as tall as my room costs about 30 quid, but I'd be heartbroken if it died....be like a dog croaking it....I'd feel SO guilty....maybe I need a woman with green fingers (and big tits) to look after it for me...
After unpacking, I enjoyed my Heinz beans with mini sausages (class!) for my tea, followed by some cereal & orange Club biscuits for desert, along with a good brew. It cheered me up a bit, although my latest obsessive-song (by John Mayer)didn't. It's brilliant, but typically me / sad. When I was back home, and lining the loft with boards with my son, he played it on his phone & it blew me away. I love the guitar, the form, the emotion, the lyrics. Fab. Check it out, and here are the lyrics...
I'm gonna stop typing...I'm not as miserable as it may sound, so I'll go for lunch now. I"ve just written this week's Mr G and sent it in for the editor to butcher... so I deserve a right good feed...
Here's those lyrics. Wrong to take them away from the music, but f*ck it!!
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