A rebel without a clue.

After a brief episode of dry retching on the main Tadcaster/Wetherby road Stephen dropped me back at home to conclude our mad afternoon/evening around York and Tadcaster Saturday night. A day where copious gills of gin and JD was drunk while I played innocently outside the King's Arms with an unopened prophylactic, attempting to look like a chicken with only one teat like wattle. A couple at the next table found my routine hilarious, but maybe thought I needed carrying away. Stephen was unusually silent on the occasion. I don't want to bore anyone with a catalogue of pints drunk, cocktails swallowed and our lingering hope we'd find a nice man with an interesting stash of uppers, downers, acid or mescaline. But this is York 2011 and not LA in the 1970's so I think we were on a hiding to nothing. Having been dropped off along from the Barbican we walked up to Pivini for our first Cider, while coming up that road to the Merchant's Adventurer's Hall next to the...

How does one live a nice life without this monster? One turns tail and ascends. There is nothing in him it's all a facade, an act, a duplicity. He's all charm and twinkle. He is led by an engorged penis. It's like I've always lived a nightmare between the walls of 97. From steven, charlotte, ed and now number 4. Bonkbonkbonk. Is it fair to have to shed my last few tears to the moaning of a wet pussy? There is something disturbing about the clandestine squeaks of pneumatic bliss and bassline - a soundtrack to 2011.mp3 Is he a sex addict? His obsession with copulation might have another darker more sinister edge. The time of night for meeting a girl, bringing her back, nailing her and seeing her to the door was very short. I recall him stepping out at 9:30 and putting her to the door at 12:30. She was French. Perhaps she was used or using him too? I have never understood the way people bring in the catch so swiftly? What did they talk about to finis...

Diary w/c Tuesday 16 th Got up at around 745. Maybe 730. Happy. Did ablusions. Cup of old coffee in microwave. Ate an Apple and the remainder of that strange fractal Romanesco broccoli. Now striding to Starbucks for fresh filter. Full of 'Storm' by Godspeed You! Black Emperor! which puts my mind at ease. Tonight is curry club. Pinto beans and black eyed bean (actually peas), change of plan Glenn can't make Wednesday. Nice lady smiled at me and touched my shoulder. Good shoes. Got an hour to kill, not going to be early to mental health as might bump into family from hell from 2 weeks ago. And what is wrong with just being on time to an appointment. Usually it feels like I need preparation in my head, but do I actually. Just drifting on. Happy! Heard from Scarlett - just the occasional hello makes me so relieved and blissful. I am not always that friendly. Tuesday 12:30. Some Indian guy tried to connect, but I think I was preoccupied by what hannah had disc...

The Great Baked Bean Fiasco,Or Grab you stuff we're leaving. Part 2.By Daniel J. Sherburn.20th August 2010..I believed most of whatever my father told me until I began to get the truth from my teachers, my sisters or my mum. Factually he was indeed very wrong about a lot of what he spoke. I think his education was via films and Hollywood and propaganda and post war documentaries. As I was growing up, however, he was the person I always asked for answers. Our first big argument was quite trivial: I'd stumbled over an encyclopaedia covering the history of locomotion. I suddenly realised the evolution of that industry didn't begin with the Stephenson's Rocket. Like almost anything in history there are many Proto influences on what finally becomes a symbol of revolution. A gram that throws the balance. A tipping point. The attacks on 9/11 were years in the making, not an overnight reckless act. We argued. I had seen this fact in a book, which I could never show my dad as I...

Tuesday I start again. Another future I think ( Diploma in Teaching in the Lifelong Learning Sector (DTLLS)).   Where the Buffalo Roam (1980)   watching this suggests it is probable that Johnny Depp also saw this film too... Oh, l'm eating her cookie. Cook, the bat here is Karl Lazlo. both wildly funny within the context of the film and when use as a general remark...out of context . Wednesday and suddenly all the buses in Wetherby are being run by individual colours. Somehow they're all still dull and discordant. Somehow they're all mat finish. Making it feel like the days of corporations. Inside you're battling a demon VK... There is a new film out which is described as 5 star, fantastic and amazing by the daily rags - friends with benefits - in Leeds this should be re-branded as 'friends on benefits' Ne pas? Much more realistic. The amount of mothers pushing toddlers/babies around Leeds city centre at 2pm on a Wednesday. So busy...

1. After grinding the beans for a full French roast Carte Noir, to finish off a lovely Jerk chicken and rice and gungo pea lunchtime meal (reheated from 3 days ago, but the chicken had that slightly bad taste that almost makes me want to throw it up), and feeling contented that freshly ground coffee is better tasting than all the Taylor's of Harrogate ready ground and the vacuum packed Lavazza, Illy, in my experience (I feel and the ritual of getting the Braun grinder, with a cracked spindle, and using a Pyrex glass jug (1pint) as a substitute for cafeteria and allowing the coffee to settle (saturated with water) to the bottom of the jug and adding a millimetre of full fat milk) is a very cheaply gained luxury. The assorted miscellaneous items that bring to fruition the pleasure of being caffeinated by that most majestic of beans reminds me the battered pewter coffee flasks perched on the shelf at the back of the Scooter-works Café, Lower Marsh and whiling away the months I was ...

Nothing fills a man when he's hungry for love. I still can't stand the people who run bar thr3. If it wasn't for Thatcher's Katy, platinum blonde Lucy and a short list of options in Wetherby; I'd not even have my funeral there. The way Ron dresses down staff within hearing of the clientele. The music of choice is Rod Stewart singing covers, Barry Manilow somber sad ballads and Muzak on repeat skipping and stuttering on the multichanger. Mum did damage her kneecap. Cracked, broken, busted, 6 weeks in a cast. Makes you wonder how many breaks we all have without investigating further? She's now stuck. Unable to work the garden, walk the dog, do her little jobs, etc. She has to use a kermode and crawl up and down the stairs. I'm her gopher. Saw the most one sided game Saturday. Man united out played and well beaten by skillful and creative Barcelona. Second half especially. 3 shots to 17. Nuff said. Relief. One less trophy for Alex Ferguson. Little known...