under another sun

Pompatus of love Up early to start writing copy for a French tourism campaign for the first few hours. Once completed I went to the gym, however was curiously underpowered today, so had a light session. Then back to work on Skelton Yawngrave, and have a few slightly tiresome business chats. Mum called to say that her scan results were fine. This is excellent news for a smorgasbord of reasons. Robbie told me via Facebook about Spotify, which is a splendid music site. He'd been listening to Steve Miller, whose famous song The Joker has the lines "Some people call me Maurice, because I speak of the pompatus of love." I'd always thought I'd misheard this line but apparently Miller is one for neologisms. I like pompatus (just one of the spellings I have seen of it on the Internet) a good deal. Spent the evening finishing The Missing Person's Guide to Love by Susanna Jones. Gripped by this book which is full of existential uncertainties. I was reminded of Haruki M...

Mayday A May Day holiday here in the good old UK like some welcome fossil of socialism. This just as well as after the previous day spent drinking with a cast of thousands I felt rather groggy. First Matie came to collect Lorraine and I and we three went for a slow but large breakfast at Bill's, complete with live yogurt and rhubarb smoothies. Then I went off to Boots for eyedrops to combat a childscaringly sore eye. Lorraine went home and First Matie and I hung about for a while drinking tea, before she zoomed back to London. While I was going about the business of the day, just down the road there was a fighty May Day protest of people making trouble in Brighton. This on the pretext of there is an Arms Factory a couple of miles away. Some of the trouble was literally down the road from me. Some blogger me. I was oblivious to it all. Then later in the afternoon met Matty and Craig again, and two pals of Matty's Richard and John. The other three left and Matt and I had a few c...