A couple of weeks ago I went to visit some distant relatives out in the countryside. They have a piano in their lounge which is incredibly cool. We were sitting around playing the piano for about half an hour when I got up to get a drink. As I made my way to the kitchen I tripped over a huge pair of boots which were standing in the hallway. From the look of them I guessed that they were women’s boots, as they were made of black leather and looked to come up to the knee. But in fact she informed me that they were boys riding boots. I now have a huge bump on my forehead where I knocked it against the bannisters. That’s the first time I’ve ever been injured by equestrian equipment. Stupid boots. Boots are made for walking, not riding, and certainly not causing injuries in corridors.
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Italian In The Heart Of… Homerton??
Venerdi, 9 Chatsworth Road, London E5 0LH22
Last Thursday, my mum decided to treat me to a meal out for my birthday. She’d heard about a place close to Homerton Hospital where she works, an Italian place which is quite popular among the staff at the hospital (I’m not surprised, seeing as they get a 15% discount).
The weather had been lovely all day, a sign that Winter was finally over. I’d been up Tottenham Court Road earlier in the day to buy some new threads, and had not eaten much apart from a light breakfast. So now I was hungry. By the time my mum, her boyfriend and I arrived, I could hear my stomach grumbling and some of the aromas coming from the semi-open kitchen tantalised me even more.
Yesterday I went on a very entertaining journey with my cousin, to buy a cover for his pickup truck. Yes, you heard me right. I thought it would be a simple case of driving half a mile down the road to the local auto store and picking something up, however we drove to FOUR different retailers before we found one that he liked! This is my cousin all over, he would rather spend lots of money on a fancy hi-tech cover than just cover ford truck with an old bedsheet like I would. Still, he seemed happy with it, so I guess each to their own. Although I could have thought of much more entertaining ways to spend my Tuesday afternoon.
Coming Of Age – Still Here #4
“Still Here” is a reference to Steve McQueen’s portrayal of the titular character in the film “Papillon”, particularly the scenes where, despite all of the ordeals he faces throughout the film, he looks defiantly up at the heavens and says “I’m still here, you bastards!!”
I may not have been through as many horrifying ordeals as Steve, but I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs, and I’m still here. This could loosely be called a collection of my memoirs.
Ah, the 18th birthday. An occasion that’s meant to be something you remember for the rest of your life, right?? Well, I won’t forget mine. And here’s why…
Just recently I was on Facebook and I noticed my friend Ed was online. He’s not online often so I thought I’d say hi. Ed is currently across the pond staying with his girlfriend in North Carolina, so I asked him how his trip was going. He messaged me back saying this was not a good time to talk. He explained that he and his girlfriend had been house-sitting for her mother, and he had woken up that morning to find that her cat had dragged a squirrel into the house. However the squirrel must not have been dead at the time because the lounge carpet was covered with blood and fur where the squirrel had tried in vain to put up a fight, and a house plant had been knocked over onto the carpet as well. As a result the carpet was in a right state.
I advised him to search for carpet cleaners raleigh nc online, as some of those carpet cleaning services can work miracles on stuff like that. Trust me, with tough stains like blood it pays to get the professionals in. I speak from experience there.
This Friday I thought I’d head down to the Rattlesnake on Upper Street, one of London’s newest music venues, to check out my friend Tom Richardson’s band, Cities Will Fall. I’d spoken to Tom earlier that day and could tell he was as excited at the prospect of getting back on stage as I was at seeing him up there. Grant and Danny, the Magnus Brothers on guitar and drums respectively, were also friends of mine who I’d known since the Blankiss days, and Gabriel Moreira I’d only met once before (albeit briefly – at Tom’s birthday bash in February).
The Rattlesnake is a decent looking rock bar recently opened on the site of the old Walkabout, and has kept much of the old layout while giving the place a much-needed makeover. As I arrived Tom greeted me and we had the chance for a quick beer before they went to set up.
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Chinatown’s Best Kept Secret??
HK Diner, 22 Wardour Street, Soho, London, W1D 6QQ
This Friday just gone I met up with Wesley. I haven’t seen him since before Christmas. As Wes is a lover of all things Chinese, we decided to meet in Chinatown to go to one of his favourite restaurants, HK Diner. So I made my way over to Chinatown and waited underneath the small pagoda for Wes and his friend Jay to turn up.
As the crime rate rises in my home town, many people feel unsafe walking alone by themselves late at night. And I can’t say I blame them. The streets just aren’t as safe as they used to be.
Take my friend Alex, for example. She only moved here from New York City a couple of months back and on her first night here she witnessed a robbery. She said that she felt safer back home because she used to carry pepper spray. This is quite a popular thing in the states and I’m surprised that you cannot buy it over here. So I advised her to go and get some pepper spray at safetygirl.com. Hopefully she’ll now feel safe enough to come down to my poetry reading next month. It is on the same road as the police station after all.
Easter bank holiday weekend was intense. That’s one word to describe it, anyway.
On the Thursday night I stayed in with a few beers. Yes, you read that right – I had a few drinks on a Thursday. I don’t consider it breaking my New Years’ resolution because it was bank holiday the next day, which to me is part of the weekend. Besides I felt I should reward myself for making it through a quarter of the year without touching a drop (during the week, anyway).
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