Three eyed fish and leopardskin heads

At last, a few hours sleep! Who knows what it was... maybe the back cracker... maybe my mother who prodded it mysteriously while she was here.

Ran around doing stuff today. Prepared and sent off a poetry MS, took the cat wee duvet off to the cleaners, swam, and bought trainers for the gym. The first pair I was drawn to cost £150, which made my bowls shrivel in horror, so I opted for a sensible pair of Reeboks. All the other customers in JD Sports looked like they smoked 50 fags a day and lived off jammy dodgers.

In the gym I met an ex colleague called Nicoletta and her opera singing husband. Rather awkward meeting ex colleagues in sumoesque mode poolside. Then went for a swim which was twinging my back so after 20 minutes I stopped and squatted in the in the skin shrivelling chemical soup of the Jacuzzi, noticing the Simpson-style three eyed fish. I have made an appointment for Monday evening when the instructor is going to show me how to use the other equipment, so I can blend in with the ranks of unsmiling narcissists about their onanistic business.

Walking down the Twitten one of my lady neighbours pointed at me and said in a rather accusing tone: "you write poems about skeletons". An idea she got as her daughter goes to the singing and dancing school where Beth works in on Saturdays. It did make me wonder what it would be like to have a poetry oeuvre solely about skeletons: there's an idea in there somewhere.

Calliope has taken to running about with things in her mouth. While I was in the shower, she grabbed the end of the toilet paper and skittered out of the bathroom and down the stairs, with the roll unspooling behind her like in an Andrex advert. Dripping, I wound it back in, and at the bottom of the stairs saw the kitten thrashing happily in a shredded nest of tissues.

Over to Lorraine's place this evening for a nice coconut and fish curry. Her cats seem giant compared to my squeaker. We walked back to my place via a cheeky beer in the West Hill pub, where for some reason we talked about politics, as a boy with a couple of decks on the end of the bar played some interesting tunes. There was also a lad there with short dyed leopardskin pattern hair which I thought extremely smart.

Below: for the record... My first ever scrubby badgery beard. I'll probably shave it off this weekend.