Hard not to be negative, cynical and destructive, isn't it? I'm particularly fond of the word "cunts" at the moment. Ah well, that's the life of an (almost) working man. Somewhat unable to bring myself round to fully committing to this desk I've skulked back to, have been listening to The Landaus and The Johnsons and other Hullish bands on myspace.com. I now await a phone call which will lead to a meeting with "a contact" at a nearby watering hole.
Looking forward to The Strokes and Ludes at the weekend, two back to back gigs taking place on Saturday. I've decided that I shall even be having my hair cut stylishly for the occasion. I do fear for my knees, however. As a man now in his fourth decade, it appears that I'm unable to stand upright for more than three hours without those crucial joints crunching and grinding like peppercorn in a mill. Tonight, we're planning on taking in Walk The Line down the nearest nacho chomping boutique. I'm no Cash fan, but I do like a biopic.
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