Experiment

Firstly please let me say 'sorry' to Annie as I have used her method again - however I had no time this morning and the one shot I took was utter crap. So I've taken that utter crap and carefully polished it, treated it and then polished it some more and passed it off as my very own 'abstract'.

It's not. It's a crap shot of some thing my Mum put in my garden that goes rouad in the wind. I suppose it's pretty if you like your garden fully of synthetic colours swirling round and round. I'm easy either way, if I had my way my garden would be one of those uncultivated nature reserves. Only I'd have a smoking area somewhere.

I done me one of them 'back blips'. Its of my brother and its not bad. Go look. Now. I'll wait for you.

Haha I didn't really I went and did some really cool stuff. Mug, thinking I'd wait here while you eye up my brother?

One of the neighbourhood mutts has pissed up my car. I wonder if its the same one that deposited the remains of its lunch (anally) onto my lawn the day of my royal wedding flip out? I can feel Mr Hyde rising in me again. I'd make lame threats about chinese take aways and dog-napping but lets be honest I wouldn't do that. I'm an animal lover. I'm more likely to sit in my bedroom window with a super soaker full of stale urine to shoot at the owner. Only I don't have a super soaker, so perhaps I'll use a bucket.

Can't get CS5 to work on my new laptop. Don't have office or publisher either. I'm doing as much as I can but struggling at the moment. I have The Deranged Ferret to publish by August 13th and my entire stock of articles has been lost. In addition to this I seem to have lost my way a bit with the old motivation and passion. It'll return I'm sure.

Josh Gowling. Francis Laurent. Jon Nutter. Jamie Taylor. Alan Power. Kyle Perry. Tony Sinclair. Nicky Nicolau. Remember those names as they'll be surrounding the Blue Square Premier trophy in April next season. One passion has returned: the one for my beloved Lincoln City FC. Mind you the cloud to that particular silver lining is that I have been banned from drinking prior to performing on matchdays. No longer will kids ask their Mums 'Mummy, why does Poacher smell like Daddy does when you make him sleep downstairs?'

I'm going teetotal. They're taking my mojo.

In fact it's been coming a long while, a childs entertainer with the breath of Amy Winehouse isn't a great sell for the club. Therefore I respect their decision and look forward to seeing what it's like to be a sober mascot.

Mind you this is Lincoln City. They could fill my pillows with broken glass and feed me Rascal raw with salad and I'd still be there on a Saturday forgiving everything. That's how it works. Actually thinking about it maybe not. I hate salad.

Why do posh restuarants always insist on putting salad with my steak and chips? If I wanted fucking rabbit food I wouldn't be ordering a 12 oz rump now would I? Now get back in the kitchen, remove that green shit from the side of my plate and fill the resulting gap with more chips.

Thanks. Have a good weekend etc etc.