hiroshima yeah! issue 10 / december 2005
happy non-religiously offensive seasonal holiday greetings to all our readers, no matter their race, creed, colour, sexual preference, musical taste or non-taste, their geographical location or nationality, whether they are alcoholics, junkies, whores, pimps, priests or pederasts.. HAPPY, HAPPY DECEMBER TO YOU ALL!!!
This issue written by Mark Ritchie, except the gig reviews, which were written by Gary Simmons.
BOOK
NICK JOHNSTONE � A HEAD FULL OF BLUE (BLOOMSBURY)
It�s a particularly cruel side effect of having a job that you can AFFORD to buy stuff but you don�t actually have any TIME to enjoy it. It�d been MONTHS since I�d read a book but this was easy to read, perhaps because it�s written in such small segments and therefore easier to digest. It�s a personal memoir by �Uncut� journo Nick Johnstone, known for his impeccable taste (meaning, he�s into loads of the same bands and writers as me!) It came out in 2002 and I remember him doing an interview on �BBC Breakfast News� about it; all very ironic, as he was being interviewed by famous piss-head Jeremy Bowen and the book is the (true) story of Johnstone�s own booze addiction and battles with severe depression. It�s nicely written; the seeming contradiction of the nice, middle-class upbringing and the scarily rapid descent into wild debauchery is nicely dealt with. It�s also the most I�ve ever been able to relate to a book of this nature, as it�s written by someone roughly the same age as me who is into a lot of the same stuff. The fact that it doesn�t end on an ultra-positive note is also remarkably refreshing and honest. Johnstone admits he still suffers bouts of depression and craves booze occasionally. I sat up till 2.30am to finish this, which speaks volumes about how good it is.
CDS
SUN KIL MOON � TINY CITIES (ROUGH TRADE)
Mark Kozelek is a nutter and I wouldn�t have it any other way. In the past he�s released an entire album full of AC/DC covers (reinterpreting them as plaintive acoustic numbers), written a love song to his cat, collated a tribute album to unhip bargain bin folkster John Denver and now he�s released this new album, consisting entirely of songs by Modest Mouse! Talk about career suicide! And what distinguishes a Mark Kozelek solo record from a Red House Painters or Sun Kil Moon record is equally mysterious considering he often used the exact same musicians. It�s as if he delights in confounding people�s expectations at every turn. I don�t know how these versions measure up to the originals (despite having seen them live last year, I don�t have any Modest Mouse records), but I�m guessing that they�ve been pretty radically reworked. Kozelek makes these songs his own here. This is a man who probably really COULD sing the telephone book and make it sound absolutely heartbreakingly beautiful. Highlights are many but when the full band breaks the solo acoustic nature of most of the tracks, it�s an especially great thrill. To this end, �Neverending Math Equation� and �Space Travel is Boring� are standouts, and �Dramamine� is the second song I can think of which is named after my favourite childhood travel sickness medicine (the other one being by Sebadoh)! �Jesus Christ Was an Only Child� sounds like a Christmas number one hit from a parallel universe, �Trucker�s Atlas� has been a much-loved song ever since I heard it performed on a live bootleg a few months ago, and �Ocean Breathes Salty� follows in the great Kozelek tradition of having a gob-smackingly gorgeous song as a final track. It�s also great how he manages to make all his records look like they�re still released by 4AD, even though he left the label ten years ago!
LEE HAZLEWOOD � POET, FOOL OR BUM (LHI RECORDS)
Lately, I�ve been buying things to try and make me feel better about my shitty job and this CD just screamed �Buy me!� from the second-hand racks in Lost in Music, Ashton Lane�s finest purveyor of quality music! Many a bus/train journey has been sound-tracked by my beloved �Greatest Hits of Nancy Sinatra� tape (now sadly chewed-up and unplayable), and many of those hits were duets with Lee Hazlewood, who wrote a lot of Nancy�s material. Being the composer of �These Boots Were Made for Walking� has surely secured Hazlewood�s retirement fund several times over and he�s released a string of eccentric albums ever since his 1960s hey day. This CD is from 1997, although whether it was actually recorded then or is a compilation of earlier stuff is impossible to ascertain from the non-existent sleeve-notes. It certainly SOUNDS like the stuff Hazlewood was doing in the 60s. There are Morricone-style string parts, twanging country-pop guitars, mad-as-a-box-of-frogs lyrics and unusual covers ahoy (his version of �Whole Lotta Shakin� Goin� On� sounds like a sleazy late-night phone call from a stalker, and he also tackles lesser-known songs by Dylan, Cohen and others). 25 tracks make this fine value too (especially at only �6.99!) My own personal fave raves, on only a couple of listens, include �Performer�, �Wind, Sky, Sea and Sand�, �The Night Before� (a GREAT song about a hangover!), �Back on the Street Again�, �Dolly Parton�s Guitar� (just for the title alone!) and �Hello, Saturday Morning�. This CD raised a few smiles on a weekend when I really didn�t feel like smiling.
JOHN MARTYN � LATE NIGHT JOHN (SPECTRUM)
How could I possibly resist a John Martyn comp with a title like THAT, sleeve-notes promising �smoky, lazy, late-night� delights and a �5 price tag? I COULDN�T, of course. The first couple of tracks, from Martyn�s earliest albums, recall Bert Jansch in their folky vocal stylings. Then there are stone-cold classics like �Bless the Weather�, �Solid Air� and �Small Hours� and obscure gems such as �Head and Heart� (here, in its original recording rather then the insipid, shitty reworking which appeared on the �Classics� comp, as reviewed in issue #8 of this zine), �Parcels�, �Stormbringer�, �So Much in Love with You� and �You Can Discover�. This is definitely the most consistently pleasing album I�ve ever heard from John Martyn, as I�ve always preferred his mellower material and the lyric �I don�t want to know about evil, I only want to know about love� is a fucking GREAT sentiment which nicely sums up this collection. Listening to it is like relaxing in a nice, warm bath.
TOM WAITS � CLOSING TIME (ELEKTRA) / THE HEART OF SATURDAY NIGHT (ELEKTRA) NIGHTHAWKS AT THE DINER (ASYLUM) / FOREIGN AFFAIRS (ELEKTRA)
HEARTATTACK AND VINE (ELEKTRA) / RAIN DOGS (ISLAND) / FRANK�S WILD YEARS (ISLAND)
My obsession with buying cheapo Tom Waits CDs continues unabated. Soooooo many utterly fantastic songs and none of these albums cost me more than a fiver, either. His debut album, 1973�s �Closing Time�, contains many Dylan-esque moments of late-night joy. That album, along with 1974�s �The Heart of Saturday Night�, have been old friends for some years now, although this is the first time I�ve owned them on CD. They are genuine classics. I bought the live �Nighthawks at the Diner� on my mate Joe�s recommendation. He said it�s the kind of album you can put on, lie back on your bed and drink along with for hours. Sounded PERFECT and I certainly wasn�t disappointed, because that�s EXACTLY what I did! Waits is backed here by a shit hot jazz band and he weaves comedy and incredible poetry together like a true master. Amazing. This is an album which will soundtrack MANY a bender, I can quite plainly tell. �Foreign Affairs� has yet MORE classy, weepie piano songs (AND a duet with Bette Midler!) Anyone who can start a song with a line like �Well, you can buy me a drink and I�ll tell you what I seen/And I�ll give you a bargain from the edge of a maniac�s dream� has my never-ending ADORATION! 1980�s �Heartattack and Vine� contains a few more of those lovely piano-led ballads I so adore... �Saving All My Love for You� (no, thankfully, it�s NOT the God-awful Whitney Houston song), �On the Nickel� and �Ruby�s Arms� are all BEAUUUUU-TI-FULL, as is �Jersey Girl�, and a lot of the other ten tracks here, although they are more in a bluesy/woozy vein/vane. 1985�s �Rain Dogs� is weirder, with a lot of odd-bod, bad acid trip style stuff, but the songs that DO hit the spot are all oh-so very, very great that you forgive the old codger his eccentricity. �Hang Down Your Head�, �Downtown Train� (which, a few years later, was hijacked and driven into the top ten by Rod bloody Stewart, of all people) and, especially the GORGEOUS �Time�, are the cream of this particular crop. �Frank�s Wild Years� (named after a song from Waits� �Swordfishtrombones� album, see last issue for a review of THAT particular gem) is a concept album, and they are NEVER a good idea! Just say NO to concept albums, kids! Still, there are some alright tunes, although nothing in the same league as the other stuff mentioned here.
MILTON MAPES � THE BLACKLIGHT TRAP (UNDERTOW)
Nearly drove myself mad one Monday morning trying to find this CD. I trawled ALL of Glasgow�s record emporiums to NO avail, so I sent a distress text to intrepid �Hiroshima Yeah!� frontline reporter Gary Simmons, who put his Job Search on hold to do some Milton Mapes Search instead! He found the CD in a branch of HMV in London-Undone and it was whisked off to me the next day! Good work, as usual, Gary! I didn�t actually get round to PLAYING the CD until a couple of days later, though, for I went boozing with some old mates on an unscheduled day off from work (yet ANOTHER sickie!) It�s taken me a few listens to get into this but it IS good and is revealing itself to be a slow-burner. Kinda reminds me of Neil Young, with thundercloud guitars rumbling along in the background and high-pitched, yelping vocals. There are many fine, mid-paced numbers with the title track, �Waiting for Love to Fail�, �Tornado Weather� and �When the Earth�s Last Picture is Painted� especially standing out.
VANDERSAR � YOUR FRIENDS ARE KNIVES (SELF-RELEASED) www.myspace.com/vandersar
Vandersar is a Canadian guy called Allan Lewis who is currently living in Edinburgh. He sent me this niftily packaged eight track CD and wrote a nice letter (yes, someone who actually still writes LETTERS! SUCH a rarity in the year 2005!) There are melancholic full band style songs like �Boiling Lakes� and �That Plane Could Crash� which are all very good but there is also a quite LOVELY piano ballad called �Gris et Nuageux� which I�ve been playing the fuck out of. This is the kind of shit I just NEVER EVER get bored of hearing, and not enough people are doing it these days (maybe THAT�S why Antony and the Johnsons won the Mercury Music Prize, �cos EVERYONE loves this kind of tear-stained, late-night piano balladry). �Northern Ghost� is the other stand-out track here, and it�s in a similar style to the OTHER gorgeous track (stripped down to just piano and voice with some nice �oooooh� backing vocals). The title track is great too, an acoustic number which hits the spot with some jazzy drums and drunken lead guitar licks.
GIGS (reviewed by Gary Simmons)
DEVILISH PRESLEY � THE TELEGRAPH, LONDON, 18TH OCTOBER, 2005
I drank on the bus (a #125) to Golders Green (GG!) bus station where me and M took photos of the last Route Master (WH = Rape Master) buses. We got on one to Oxford Circus-ish and HAD to have a piss (and shit) in Selfridge�s bog. I met Paul D Knowles in the Xmas section! He�s worked at that place for YEARS... He came over like a character from �Are You Being Served?� Then we went our angry separate ways, me to the Vespa and M to see David. I had drunk on the bus, I drank in the Vee-Spar and I drank in the Telegraph, which was fuckin� MILES out of, and off of, my beaten track. Saw an acoustic set by some Scottish guy who did a Ryan Adams song� Or so he said. I wouldn�t know it from a BRYAN Adams song! Then we saw an Italian instrumental band called Votiva Lux who M was given a CDR of, as she made the effort to talk to �em! Guitared Tangerine Dream psychedelic space roooock! Devilish Presley were great, as usual. Still wish they would get a �real� drummer. I bought a Jaquui Vixen badge for �1 and, in the bar, she told me about the two Scottish gigs, Edinboogar and Ablurdean and how SHE drove and how Johnny takes his dog with him� It�s DIY touring!! Just playing the excellent Votiva Lux CDR. They have two CDs out besides this.www.votivalux.com. This was their only UK gig� Back to Italy tomorrow. I fancied the cute and young/young and cute bass player. It was raining when we came out. Got the bus to London Bridge, got a bus to Archway, got a bus to North Finchley� A fine, fine music enthusiast�s evening coz no OTHER fuckers boo-thard to come. GOOD!
COLD SPRING 15 YEAR ANNIVERSARY PARTY � THE MARQUEE, LONDON, 12TH NOVEMBER, 2005
The Marquee is an awful venue, being basically an office block. You get to the fifth floor via a LIFT!! (We WALKED down on leaving). It�s a whole new world, all this Cold Spring stuff: Black suits as if everyone is going to a funeral, snare drums, military chic jackets, Germanic vocals� Almost a neo-nazi �edge� to it all!! I liked it. Didn�t get to meet Justin but did speak to one posh fella outside by the LONG queue� He seemed to know me but I had no fuckin� idea who HE was! Saw Gaya too. The last band, Von Thronsthal (!) had no end of problems with the backing tracks and the sound engineer� Quite funny!! The cunt filming it all on a shoulder-held camera was well-a-cocky-fuck� M said he was filming between her legs!! I dunno.. Always SOMETHING!! Got some skinheaded ugly drunken prick chat up M and me from behind, until I turned around.. He thought we were BOTH girls!! We were looking out of the bus�s back window at a commotion in Tally-fuckin�-Ho. Some fuck was laying in the road with a bunch of �revellers� around him. Die, bastard, DIE!! Got home, went to bed� And this is where I sorta came in. Oh, the Marquee was fuckin� COLD, an arctic breeze during the entire event! I didn�t bother to buy a drink there� Trendy-as-fuck bar with trendy-as-fuck prices, I can GUESS!!
The Revenge Corporation
1.
He knocked on the door, nervous as usual.
�Enter!�
Norrie walked into the plushly decorated office and was instructed by a tall, grey haired man dressed in a suit to sit down in a chair.
�Mister Bone, why do you want to work for the Revenge Corporation?�
�Well, I�m good with people. I�m honest and loyal and��
�Mister Bone, that is all I need to hear. So long as you are loyal, that is all that we require. Loyalty is the first and foremost requirement of any employee of the Revenge Corporation. Can you start work tomorrow?�
Norrie was shell-shocked at how easy this, his seventh job interview in four days, had been and found himself saying �Yes� immediately and enthusiastically shaking hands with his new boss.
2.
The automatic dialer clicked.
�Hello?�
�Hello, Laura. I know what you�re wearing. I�m going to give you a good fucking later tonight� and you�ll LOVE it��
Laura screamed and hung up the phone.
Norrie turned to the guy sitting next to him.
�So, how long you been working here?�
�About six months.�
�Don�t you ever feel guilty?�
�Sometimes. Then I remember we�re on �15 an hour and I don�t feel so bad.�
Another call came through and Norrie had to say how he was going to rape someone�s sister. As usual, the call didn�t last very long.
�This can�t be legal, surely?� he asked his work-mate, who was idly shredding the label on his bottle of water.
�Look, didn�t they explain it all to you at training? We�re providing a service. Our clients pay us to do a job and we do it. Personal feelings don�t come into it. As for the legality of it, the beautiful thing is, we�re on an untraceable number.�
�Well, that�s what they TELL us,� Norrie said. �But what if they�re lying?�
�Look, mate, you�ve got to trust the Corporation. They pay our wages.�
Norrie thought this guy sounded insane but, then, he wondered what he was doing there himself. A �2,000 credit card overdraft, a mortgage he couldn�t afford and a wife with expensive tastes. He decided to shut all his own personal feelings out and get on with the job, no matter how distasteful he found it.
3.
A couple of months later, Norrie had forgotten all about his initial worries. His bank account was looking good and so was his sex life. But he would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, knowing that what he was doing for a living was fundamentally wrong.
It didn�t help that he was forbidden to talk about the nature of his work with �outsiders�. That�s what the boss called non-Corporation employees at the daily staff meetings.
�We must never disclose anything to outsiders about what goes on within these walls. This is a secret organisation and it must remain so, for the protection of both our clients and all our own jobs. I don�t have to remind any of you that we are paid handsome salaries. That alone, plus a loyalty to the Corporation, should keep us all compliant.�
Everyone applauded and the boss went back into his air-conditioned office, while Norrie and the thirty or so other drones went back to work, calling strangers up and saying whatever the clients demanded. No matter how sick or repulsive.
4.
It was four months into the job that Norrie began to get the headaches. Normal at first, but then feeling like tight steel bands clamped around his head.
�What�s wrong with me, doctor? Have I got a brain tumour?�
The doctor smiled and leaned back in his leather chair.
�Nothing like that, Mister Bone. It sounds like stress to me. When did these headaches start, exactly?�
�Well, I started a new job a while back and I suppose it�s been getting me down a bit.�
�Hmmm, yes. Work place stress is a major cause of depression. Have you been feeling anxious or worried about anything?�
�Yes! Yes, I have.�
�Well, I can prescribe some beta blockers to help with the anxiety.�
�And what about the headaches?�
�They might well disappear once your anxiety levels reduce. Shall we give those beta blockers a try?�
�Okay, doctor. I�ll try anything.�
5.
�Sit down, Bone.�
Norrie was always nervous when asked into the boss�s office for a �chat� and this time was no exception. He anxiously played with his tie as the boss paced the floor behind a large mahogany desk.
�You should feel very privileged, Bone. You have been specially selected by the Corporation to do some overtime for us.�
�Overtime, sir?�
Norrie had never heard any mention of overtime before, which he actually considered rather strange.
�Yes, Bone, overtime. The Corporation doesn�t ask just ANYONE to do overtime. The Corporation only select very TRUSTED employees who have been working here for some months. The reason for this secrecy will become apparent to you in good time, though. So, what do you say, Bone? Are you up to the job?�
�Yes, of course, sir.�
�Good man. Now, overtime pays handsome rewards. Each time you are selected to do overtime you are paid a flat rate of �400.�
��400, sir?�
�That�s what I said, Bone.�
�Just for calling people on the phone?�
�Well, not exactly. You see, there is another service that the Corporation offers which is only available to special customers. We call them Gold Customers, and they are men... they ARE usually, men, Bone... who require a FULLER service from us. A more HANDS ON service, shall we say.�
�What do you mean, sir?�
�Well, you have to understand that some people aren�t scared so easily by a few late-night phone calls. In a nutshell, Bone, our Gold Customers pay us to actively CARRY OUT the... for want of a better phrase... telephone threats.�
Norrie stared at his boss is abject disbelief.
�Don�t look so surprised, Bone. If we didn�t offer this service, some other company would, and it�s a VERY lucrative market.�
�Do you mind if I gave this some thought, sir?�
�Not at all. Let me know after lunch.�
Norrie left the office, walked downstairs and stood out on the street. He watched people going about their day-to-day lives, all the while feeling as if he�d been punched in the stomach. Although he had given up years ago, he desperately craved a cigarette. He began walking away from the Revenge Corporation�s bland sandstone building. He didn�t even go back for his coat.
6.
Norrie had found a job as a security guard in a 24-hour supermarket and had been working there for several weeks. One night, he was about to leave the house to start his night shift when the telephone rang.
�Hello?�
�Hello, Norrie. Don�t forget to lock your door when you leave. You never know WHO might try and get in...�
Norrie recognised the voice as a guy he had worked with at the Corporation.
�Piss off, Mike. That isn�t funny.�
�I�m not TRYING to be funny, Norrie. I just wanted to let you know that I�ve been selected to do some overtime pretty soon. I don�t know exactly when, but I�ve been given a nice photo of your wife and your address and your work schedule... It makes for very interesting reading, Norrie. Sweet dreams.�
Then he hung up.
THE END�
OR
THE BEGINNING!
All of the previous stuff in this issue was written before the following, which is a real excerpt from my diary spanning 25th November-1st December 2005. NO names have been changed, because the guilty DESERVE what�s fucking coming to them and the INNOCENT deserve some recognition for being such brilliant friends to me. �Thank you, friends. Wouldn�t be here if it wasn�t for you.� � Big Star.
friday-they were sending out messages to george best on 'the wright stuff', as he is about to croak, apparently. it got me a bit emotional, i must admit. didn't bother having a shower. it was COLD and slightly SNOWING. played my new, digitally re-buggered (and a snip at only 3 quid) replacements cd and
some husker du and went into town after 11am. went into boots and, as expected, there was NOTHING on the film i put in for developing. no pics of the mark eitzel show from last month (he even POSED for me!), no photos of ronnie and jim in the pub. oh, well. serves me right for accidentally exposing the film. it's ONLY disposable cameras for ME from now on! i got some reduced food from somerfield in st enoch square, browsed in missing then went to work. i was ultra-blase about everything today, as i'd been monitored yesterday. craig from qa took me up to a room 'where we normally sack people, but don't worry'. the cunt who was listening to my calls yesterday and some OTHER cunt were listening in on craig's call-monitoring feedback session. i found out from colin bacon that they (the 2 cunts) are training to
be team-leaders, so all was revealed (that's why they were sending them to london). anyway, i got a few sales for the shite company RH-Hell, as usual and then, after a perfectly charming couple of breaks (the 1st sitting with david and bobby, the 2nd sitting with david and DAVE and the nice scouse girl), i was taken to ANOTHER room upstairs, by craig, lee (my nice team-leader) and bitch steph. bitch steph told me she'd been monitoring my calls from 7pm (this was at about 7.40). 'you DO know why we're here?'
i told her of COURSE i did. i was rude to customers (as i usually am.. i was just lucky enough never to have got CAUGHT for nearly 6 MONTHS!) and shit.. basically, i did tonnes of things wrong. things which they can and do sack people for. bitch steph left and craig and lee talked to me more like human-beings. said they knew i'd never been happy working there, doing what i was doing. they said to come in tomorrow and they'd let me know what 'action would be taken.' lee went down to the call floor to 'get my coat', as they say, and craig found me a computer to stamp out on (it was EXACTLY 8pm when i stamped out.) lee was waiting for me outside the building. i realised i'd become one of those who mysteriously vanish and are never seen again! he was very cool about it, said just go home and have a think about what i want to do. i took a subway to kelvinhall, after negotiating through the dark and terrifying ibrox streets, full of gangs of shouting and marauding kids. walked to byres road and rang andy (who'd left the SAME shit job about 6 weeks ago). He agreed to meet for a pint. i got 4 litres of somerfield cider and met him in the 3 judges pub (where i'd never been before. he didn't recognise me at first due to my beard). we had a good old chinwag. then my mum rang to say i might not get home tomorrow due to there being
11 inches of snow at home. i told her the whole sorry tale and she just said to be careful. then me and andy went our seperate ways, i went back to the flat. saw craig in the hall and asked him for the royal mail christmas recruitment number. he, like everyone else, understands why i needed to get OUT of that job. stress and anxiety were sending me INSANE, as was doing something which i fundamentally despised in every possible way. the ONLY consolation was that a lot of my co-workers were nice, but SO many people quit that job.. every other day people would just walk out and SO many people planned to leave ALL the time. it was SHIT. I ate tortilla chips and reduced garlic and onion dip, read gary's letter. john came to my door at 12.25am. he was all down because george best (one of his IDOLS) had died that day. we had a great chat and a great drink and i remember picking him up off the floor and escorting him back to his room at 6.25am.
saturday-woke at about 11.20am. i SHOULD have been at work at 10 but FUCK them. i am happy and
slowly coming to terms with the beautiful realisation that i will NEVER EVER have to go back to
that DUMP. john didn't answer my door-knockings and 'wake up! it's party time!' calls, so i left
a scrawled message under his door that i'd gone to shawlands (last night he said he was coming to.)
got a bus into town at 1.23pm, changed to another bus and was in sir john's not long after. had 4
pints sitting alone, letting the warm wash of people's easy conversation soothe me back to life.
then i went to the supermarket for a 3 litre bottle of mental cider and a packet of croissants and
met joe outside weaver's wine, where we bought 3 bottles of red wine for a tenner. then we went
round to his place, where catherine was lying ill in bed. we drank, we talked, we played music. it
was all good it was all very hazey and i slept on the couch.
sunday-made kraft cheesy pasta for my breakfast then joe got up and the party continued, even though
catherine was still ill. later on, after music was played and drinks were drank, we went out to sir
john's. this guy at a nearby table asked if he knew me from somewhere. i said i didn't think so, but
explained i might have rang him up trying to sell him dodgy insurance at some point, etc. joe was
getting mega-paranoid, as he knew the guy and that he was 'connected'.. later on, i realised he was
the guy who used to come in and sell tobacco, so i mentioned this to the guy, only i used the term
'dodgy tobacco' and he got WELL offended but i left on good terms with him, although he called joe
back to his table and made some comment which joe took the wrong way and it all got very silly, but
we were leaving ANYWAY. went to the corona and saw john mcmaster there, so we summoned him over to our table. joe thought one of the bar staff had told him to leave, but i got him a drink and they
didn't say anything, so i was convinced he was paranoid. he left anyway and i had a drink with john
and asked him back to joe's flat. it took him about 20 minutes to choose a carry-out in haddows, so
i was giving much random and drunken chat to the girl behind the till. she was smiling and tolerant
at first but was obviously sick of me after a while of this. anyway, we went back to joe's and cat
was STILL in bed and puking up and shit. so the 3 of us sat in the living room and i played some
guitar and we listened to some music and john drank his bottle of smirnoff ice and left at some point.
again, it was all very hazey but i slept on the couch again and i was seeing people in the dark room
who i knew weren't really there.
monday-tried to masturbate when i woke up but it wasn't happening so i ate a tin of beans. when joe got
up, the party continued. wine, cider, etc. we went out to the bay horse later in the day (cat was still
not well and wanted us OUT of there). we had a couple and this old guy asked me, out of the blue, to lend
him a fiver. i didn't. were about to leave when jim snowdon walked in, so we drank with him for a while.
he was on good form as usual. he said he hadn't been planning on going out that day, as it's usually much
earlier that he's in there. when we went back to the flat (after buying SIX bottles of red wine from Weavers), Cat was feeling a bit better, so she sat up with us and i revealed a couple of secrets and we were cuddling on the couch, with joe on the other couch and, again, it was all very hazey INDEED and i slept there AGAIN.
tuesday-had a bit of wine when i awoke. could hear joe and cat talking in the bedroom. puked slightly in
the kitchen sink then just left. didn't say goodbye to the people who'd been my hosts for the last 3 days.
was standing at the bus stop when jim snowdon walked up and asked if i was just going home from yesterday. i said yes and he laughed. i asked if he was going to the bay horse, so we went and he bought us a drink. he had a stella, i just had a tennents. it wasn't long after 11am. we chatted, standing at the bar, about pubs in maryhill, pubs in byres road, things in general. he told me, when he was a lot younger, he'd beat his mate up while they were having a piss up an alley and his mate chose that time to reveal that he was gay. he said it was the TIMING of the revelation, rather than the admission of gayness! my goodness! after i drank most of my pint, i ran to the toilet and puked into the urinal. went back out and told him i had to go home. shook hands (he said he hoped i'd washed my hands after puking!) got a bus into town then another to partick. got a packet of crisps and a bottle of lucozade, went home anf crashed out, but i couldn't rest 'cos i knew my mum would be worried since i'd not been in touch since friday night. my phone battery was re-charged enough by then for me to hear 3 distressed voice messages from her. so we had a couple of emotional phone calls, i rang the doctor and made an appointment for the next day, then i tried to eat and sleep a bit. didn't work too well. i kept taking sips of cider to calm my rattles, which worked to a certain extent. then i remembered i had a couple of librium pills john had given me ages ago, so i took them and felt calm for a while and even managed to sleep a bit. but it was a hellish day, all in all. the best thing was that john knocked on my door at about midnight and came in and we had a bit of a cry and a cuddle because, out of everyone else, i think he TOTALLY understands, 'cos we're similar in so many ways. we chatted, with me occasionally puking into my bin, for about 40 minutes and then he went to his own room and i tried to sleep. had a rough night.
wednesday-'woke', if i'd actually SLEPT at all, at about 8.40 and showered for the first time since last thursday and tried to brush my teeth. walked to the doctors. it was a grey and dull day and i felt the same. walked past where i used to live with dave, past the factory that blow up and is now only rubble. had a shit in the doctors and saw dr gaw. i told him about it. he felt my stomach, presumably to check my liver, then prescribed librium, to help the withdrawal symptoms and gave me a sick note for 2 weeks and told me to go back and see him when it ran out. i felt a bit more relieved after that and walked to the social security place in maryhill. had to wait a while but was then given all the forms and shit i need to apply for sickness benefit. went to the big tesco in the shopping centre and bought some food, lucozade and a tv mag. then i went and got my librium. i ticked the 'income support' box and hoped they wouldn't ask for proof. they didn't. went back to my room, popped a pill and slept for a little while. my mum rang in the afternoon. she was still at work and i asked if she wouldn't mind ringing into my ex-work and telling them why i wasn't there and wasn't going back (i hadn't rang them and i assume they've been ringing the flat but no one ever answers that phone). then i decided to go out for a walk and some air. so i walked up great western road, stopping off for 2 bananas, a cherry muffin and some chocolate milkshake. ate it on the hoof then decided to go into the wetherspoon pub in anniesland. had a soda water and lime and andrew rang for a while, which was really nice. when i left, it was dark, and i walked down by jury's hotel pond and watched the swans and ducks. then i walked past the old house in crown road north then browsed in a couple of shops then i got a 12" pizza from marco's on queen margaret drive. i got in after 6pm and took the phone out of the wall, in case the ex-work rang. mum rang when SHE got in from work to ask again what I wanted her to say when she called in for me. it only took a minute (girl!) and she'd done it and reported back and we chatted for a bit and i felt better after that. ate my pizza and wrote more of my long-neglected letters to gary and andrew, played music and tried to get used to the banging doors of other flatmates. later on, though i was tired, i watched a great episode of 'lost' then 'pimp my ride uk' and 'little britain' on video. took a 3rd librium at 1am and slept but had bizarre dreams.
thursday-didn't wake till 10.30am..the longest SOBER sleep i have had in, probably, MONTHS! i immediately felt a lot better and tidied all the rubbish out of my room and into the kitchen, emptied all my piss bottles and even washed-up my mugs and glasses! ate some cold pizza and drank lucozade then john came to see me for 45 minutes. he's going to shawlands today, to see if he can 'bump into' that woman he likes. he's glad i'm feeling better and we swapped some more 'stories'.. librium DOES give you weird dreams, etc. was about to leave at noon when the postie brought what i'd been waiting for.. my dvd from austria, so i watched that and left just before 1pm. saw craig on the bridge and we chatted a bit about being free and not having the constraints of a job and all that. then i walked to partick and saw gg allin fan jim spence outside morrissons. we said hello then i got my train (the 1.41 to lanark). spent the journey reading back gary and andrew's letters and writing more. sat opposite a young-ish girl doing similar readings and writings.. then this loud woman was ranting at her mate about her shit job and i just thought 'hmmmmm..' in lanark, i bought the new 'uncut' (with the SMITHS on the cover! i was ECSTATIC!) and a jar of HOT madras sauce and thought how the constant chatterings and shit of a supermarket would drive me MAD if i worked THERE too! then i had a look in woolworths then got on the 3.30 bus. chatted to agnes about my ex-job and stuff. a nice chat and alex wilson sat in front of me and said hello. when i got back home, i was surprised to see mac in the garden. he ran up and licked me and summoned me into moira and michael's house, where i chatted for about 15 minutes about the last few day's events. then i was home and i just relaxed and made dinner for when mum got in and we hugged and chatted and it was all very normal, not the big emotional scene i was dreading (thankfully THAT happened in the phone calls on tuesday).. so, i just felt glad to be home and back to NORMAL.. at LAST. after 6 MONTHS of cold-calling call centre HELL!