Nutriment
Sometimes I think I need to cut down on wayward excess. There's too much of it in my life. So I've had a few days off the booze. Marvellous. By 'off the booze', it's not some kind of six-month-on-the-wagon epic like I did a few years ago, merely being frugal and not drinking too much. There's nothing wrong with a bottle of cider on the beach in the late afternoon, shorely? So that's what we did yesterday, together with a picnic involving homegrown tomatoes and homemeade rice salad. Lovely. The sun set behind the Palace Pier and after yearning for a box of watercolours, we walked out on the sand that the retreating sand had left.
So what inspired this particular casting aside of the vice of fermented liquour? Well, apart from my increasing financial thicket, I thought it would make me more productive. It actually means I sleep a lot more. Not entirely sure what that's about.
On Sunday, me and Anna went to go meet up with Alan, aka Mad "Alan" Two-Partings, aka Acid Alan and the Wack Daves, aka Greebo Al, usw, usw. A pint of fizzy beer in the Great Eastern, and then we took Alan home, for he is currently homeless. We sat around on the roof terrace smoking cigarettes and having a glass of cider. And then, somehow, we ended up doing lines of MSG. Yes, monosodium glutemate. Andy had asked Alan to give him some drugs, and expressed great surprise when Alan didn't have any. "What do you mean? You're Alan! You're on drugs all the time!". So Alan supplied a dubious white powder which turned out to be MSG.
This is way cool. I've never tried ingesting pure MSG through a rolled up note before, and I don't think I would if Alan hadn't thought of it first.
Another reason why I reckon a bit of a detox is necessary. (On a side note, the effects are a brief spell of being reasonably dizzy, followed by, um, absolutely nothing at all. But it's really really addictive, as you may imagine. Wicked.)
Friday we went to the Bake. More funking and illicit gin smuggling. We went to a party afterwards, stopping to get snacks. Declining the sandwiches, which looked notably undesirable, we bought a tin of soup and cooked it up at the party. I think it probably went well with my chef whites. Apart from bumping into an old schoolfriend (like, really old. Like, 15 years ago old.) the party was fairly uneventful. Unlike the following night, where we went to what seemed like a normal house, only to discover a massive underground basement covered with 'graffiti' art and a band playing down there. Lots of hippies stumbling about wearing 'freak-out-gear'. Jed is determined to get him some freak-out-gear. DJ Tea and MC Cake played their second set since Andy's return, which was up to our normal standards with the decks not working and me being a bit lost for words. Absolutely incredible, in other words, with an acoustic version of "Stuck in a box with water and rats" and other such delights.
Last night after the picnic we went to go see Why? at the Hanbury Ballrooms. Jed left his tickets at the Happiness Consultants and had to buy some more. The Hanbury Ballrooms is a big upside down bed and the first band (called S J Esaul or something along those lines) were an excellent distorted quirky string trio, followed by some live electro-rock-dance from a band called The Chap. They were pretty cool even though their Mogue broke down. Mot entirely my kettle of fish but pleasant enough. Then after great delay and tuning up, Why? and band came to the stage, and despite their occasional forays into sentimentality which had me mildly grinding my teeth and curling my eyebrows, they played some incredible quirky-indie-hip hop with the innovative approach to conclusions we have come to expect from this particular quintet. However, the real fun started about half an hour in, when the band discovered that as they had started so late, the time left for their set had drawn to a close. There then followed an incredible dialogue/argument between Why? himself and the man from the Hanbury Ballrooms, where they quibbled over details, agreed on an acoustic set, "Can the drummer have a shakey thing?" "We have an acoustic guitar". About a minute into the first acoustic song, the drummer abandoned his shakey thing, and started clapping, which was joined by many members of the crowd. Then he got a bit over-excited and got back on the drums. "Can you stop him doing that" asked the Hanbury Ballrooms man. "I'm not even working tonight". "Neither am I", replied Why, "I'm just chilling." "Ywah," replied the sound guy, "but you're getting paid." The acoustic set continued, and we strolled home, eating bananas.
So what inspired this particular casting aside of the vice of fermented liquour? Well, apart from my increasing financial thicket, I thought it would make me more productive. It actually means I sleep a lot more. Not entirely sure what that's about.
On Sunday, me and Anna went to go meet up with Alan, aka Mad "Alan" Two-Partings, aka Acid Alan and the Wack Daves, aka Greebo Al, usw, usw. A pint of fizzy beer in the Great Eastern, and then we took Alan home, for he is currently homeless. We sat around on the roof terrace smoking cigarettes and having a glass of cider. And then, somehow, we ended up doing lines of MSG. Yes, monosodium glutemate. Andy had asked Alan to give him some drugs, and expressed great surprise when Alan didn't have any. "What do you mean? You're Alan! You're on drugs all the time!". So Alan supplied a dubious white powder which turned out to be MSG.
This is way cool. I've never tried ingesting pure MSG through a rolled up note before, and I don't think I would if Alan hadn't thought of it first.
Another reason why I reckon a bit of a detox is necessary. (On a side note, the effects are a brief spell of being reasonably dizzy, followed by, um, absolutely nothing at all. But it's really really addictive, as you may imagine. Wicked.)
Friday we went to the Bake. More funking and illicit gin smuggling. We went to a party afterwards, stopping to get snacks. Declining the sandwiches, which looked notably undesirable, we bought a tin of soup and cooked it up at the party. I think it probably went well with my chef whites. Apart from bumping into an old schoolfriend (like, really old. Like, 15 years ago old.) the party was fairly uneventful. Unlike the following night, where we went to what seemed like a normal house, only to discover a massive underground basement covered with 'graffiti' art and a band playing down there. Lots of hippies stumbling about wearing 'freak-out-gear'. Jed is determined to get him some freak-out-gear. DJ Tea and MC Cake played their second set since Andy's return, which was up to our normal standards with the decks not working and me being a bit lost for words. Absolutely incredible, in other words, with an acoustic version of "Stuck in a box with water and rats" and other such delights.
Last night after the picnic we went to go see Why? at the Hanbury Ballrooms. Jed left his tickets at the Happiness Consultants and had to buy some more. The Hanbury Ballrooms is a big upside down bed and the first band (called S J Esaul or something along those lines) were an excellent distorted quirky string trio, followed by some live electro-rock-dance from a band called The Chap. They were pretty cool even though their Mogue broke down. Mot entirely my kettle of fish but pleasant enough. Then after great delay and tuning up, Why? and band came to the stage, and despite their occasional forays into sentimentality which had me mildly grinding my teeth and curling my eyebrows, they played some incredible quirky-indie-hip hop with the innovative approach to conclusions we have come to expect from this particular quintet. However, the real fun started about half an hour in, when the band discovered that as they had started so late, the time left for their set had drawn to a close. There then followed an incredible dialogue/argument between Why? himself and the man from the Hanbury Ballrooms, where they quibbled over details, agreed on an acoustic set, "Can the drummer have a shakey thing?" "We have an acoustic guitar". About a minute into the first acoustic song, the drummer abandoned his shakey thing, and started clapping, which was joined by many members of the crowd. Then he got a bit over-excited and got back on the drums. "Can you stop him doing that" asked the Hanbury Ballrooms man. "I'm not even working tonight". "Neither am I", replied Why, "I'm just chilling." "Ywah," replied the sound guy, "but you're getting paid." The acoustic set continued, and we strolled home, eating bananas.
posted by Rufus Moonshine at 9:42 AM
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