Hello. Not much to report here. "No excuse!" you cry, "give us some sub-continental wit, you scrab-haired rapscallion!"
Well, I've just spent about two hours online copying down the words to loads of songs into my book so I can actually learn them so that next time the guitar has been busted out and I'm entertaining a filthy, hungry bunch of travelling whores, I can actually play a song from beginning to end without going "er, sorry, I've forgotten the cocking words. Ooh, what's that over there?"
So, I shall avant. Otherwise I'll get charged for a third hour and frankly that's gay.
All the friends I make keep leaving me. Such is the nature of travelling. And the scourge of education - being stuck in one place. Still, my voice is beginning to sound less like that of a chain-smoking, retching minion, and more like that of an angelic, pre-pubescent boy-child.
Until the next time.
PS I bought a newspaper today. Might read it.
How are you all?
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
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3 comments:
Dear Randy T Manor.
How are you? I am fine. I played some big drums today in the living room. You would have been proud.
Look at me, I shouted, fucking look at this! I'm playing the biggest drumkit in the world. IN THE FUCKING WORLD! Look there's the high-hat, the high-hat man! God I love this, I'm riding on empty but I love it, I LOVE BIG DRUMS!
And that was about all that happened today. David's making embroidered vaginas in the other room and I've just finished reading a book about a historian who gives up his life's work on Newton to bone some farm lass whilst thinking about her adoptive mother during intercourse. It was so deep. The book.
Exploding Alphabets was even better when you weren't there. I turned up late and ruined it a bit, but it is fine because I own it, so I can do that.
Right, well, I'm off to bed then.
Thanks for the travel-news generally, I wasn't expecting that you'd have the time or energy to keep Rangy alive in some grubby booth by a ripening mango-tree.
Love, Thom Adams
P.s. The earthquake is a terrible thing. It is difficult to talk of it without seeming trite or affected, but to be in a foreign country when they suffer a natural disaster is a being fraut with guilt and helplessness. The role of a tourist is fully exposed. Is there anyway you are going to be able to help?
I've just realised I've come across as both entirely trite and entirely affected. This was not my intention. This little extra post has probably just made it worse hasn't it? I'll go.
Ahh tide tide tide. Circle.
I miss the big drums. They don't have them in India. They're tiny.
The drums.
Glad to hear that alphabet soup was incurably improved by my absence. How exactly did you manage to spoil it? Or are you just displaying the kind of false modesty that will be the end of us all?
Keeping up the blog has been no trouble at all. I mean how exactly would you spend your afternoons in Jaipur for a month?
That isn't rhetorical, I genuinely have run out of ideas.
We got through to the world cup right? That is a relief really.
What will the tag line be for regional televisual footage?
"From Tyne and Wear to Germanic stereotypes and Nazi fear."
Or something.
I hear Pakistan has been knackered again. Talk about kicking when down. I would love to help but I suspect that teaching guitar or English literature to a child under a house is not going to be of much use.
Sigh.
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