Sunday, November 09, 2008

Where do the nights of sleep go when they do not come to me?

So normal life has gotten into the way of me updating my blog yet again. I doubt anybodies really a'that bothered but if you are soz an a'that.

Rosa's nipped down to Kiwiland to visit a friend who's just lost her mother to cancer. I've a mate up here waiting for his father to go the same way and I can only imagine how hard it must be. There's not much you can say but they're all in my thoughts. It's weird not having the lass around and it seems to have fucked up my sleeping, probably because I've gotten used to sleeping whilst hanging off the side of the bed and trying to cosy into a small corner of duvet. At least I've got the satisfaction that Rosa'll be suffering hideous jetlag over there.

On a brighter note we managed to catch The Black Seeds in Edinburgh before she left. Barnaby and the gang were as brilliant as ever and I liked the sound of their new stuff. I only hope that the new album is nearly as good as they are live. I've found their previous albums good but not great and know they can do better. If Fat Freddy's Drop can make a great studio album surely they can.

I'd like to tell you that when Rosa's gone I spend my time moping round the house, pining at work and crying into my pillow late at night but that would be a lie. I've actually spent most of my time watching zombie films and playing Fallout 3 on the old Xbox. Fallout 3 is the new CRPG set in a post-apocalyptic world where you try to survive and solve problems in the traditional way, shooting peeps in the face!

See what I mean?

This isn't to say that I've gone all hermit-like or anything. I got free tickets to the Scotland-New Zealand rugby match from an awfy nice Kiwi bloke called Matt so I dragged wee Graham through yesterday for lunch at my club then the pleasure of watching Scotland finally defeat the Kiwi's. Lunch was very nice. I've also got tickets to see De La Soul on Thursday which should be fucking great. Lacking a Kiwigirl to go with I've had to convince my mate Jamesie who hates hiphop that buying a ticket and driving me there and back is a great idea. Weirdly enough he's agreed on the proviso that I am absolutely not allowed to wear hiphop shorts, converse in a ghetto stylee or gett blinged up. He's a harsh man but fair.

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