aka.. Go write your message on the pavement..Burnin’ so bright I wonder what the wave meant.. as a certain Mr Kiedis would spit out.

Can’t stop addicted to the shin dig
Cop top he says I’m gonna win big
Choose not a life of imitation
Distant cousin to the reservation

Apparently, I can sing.  And people will pay to hear it. Like money and not the monopoly kind or those chocolate biscuits wrapped in gold foil, real money honey!
Rap, I can, primarily coz its word-play and I have a penchant for that since time immemorial but belting out straight up stadium rock, that I can’t wrap my head around. Okie, maybe even indie rock for the quasi-poseurs in the crowd.


Brace yourself. I am.

I am  too stunned to write more. Wembley, here I come. 

Your image in the dictionary
This life is more than ordinary
Can I get 2 maybe even 3 of these
Come from space
To teach you of the pliedes
Can’t stop the spirits when they need you
This life is more than just a read thru

Well, I can write more.  Whoddathunkit? Well, tidbits generally. A rather juicy love post awaits provided I get the Godiva treats I have asked him for. For those who care(read: friendly voyeurs), The Netherlands hasn’t entirely been an unhappy trip for him though texts about easily accessible drugs and threesomes don’t provide me with much happiness. But stray, he shall not. Definitely not if I(and two very diligent Dutch Watsons) have anything to do with it.
Other texts are pretty..
He says: “Counting toes at ———(insert hotel name)’s foyer. Still have them all. Blonde overdose. Wondering if I can manage some Chinese takeway here. As always..missing the girl..more than she knows and gives me credit for.”
She says: “Feverish and caked in a mudmask. La familia leaves tonite so shopping and niceties will commence anytime. And Chinese? In the name of Gordon Ramsey..have you no taste?”
He says: “I have taste and more. Check: Scherezade S?” (Evil smiley)
Ah, I suffer from foot-in-mouth as frequently as Hugo Chavez!

Dammit. I have also observed that thanks to a rather unforgettable drama that occurred with a rather forgettable sod last year and some of this year, my love-o-meter is clocking on frigid these days. Must get roseate beads and light red candles for some mojo risin’. Yup.
Work is as arid as it ever was. Familial bonding snatched precious hours from “me-time” thats usually spent lavishing attention and moisturizer on my freckled feet. Too much info?
I have also noticed that before every major holiday I get to see more of my family than I’d like. No really, I walked in on my uncle and my aunt, fresh out of the shower. Twice. One two separate occasions. Thats four flashes. Altogether. Myopia etc prevented any sort of scarring of the memory.
The arms are tighter thanks to kickboxing bouts and other, err, primal sports. The waist size has dropped significantly and keeping my pants up is a serious problem. Literally.
Plebeian existence ensured that the weekend was shared with half a dozen equally disoriented souls where the highlight of the evening was me splitting my nail and then dripping blood into the sorbet. Sigh!
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to point out that some of the most modish eateries must have me on their blacklist.
Conversation was mundane and centered on soccer clubs, underwater sex, the lack of good Italian ristorantes and Rilke. Then some deviation to Chet Baker’s favored drugs(heroin, for the uninitiated) to which a rather confused girl at the table had this shocked look coz she presumed that we were talking about a brand of baking soda. Fired by his own Promethian ambition of sorts, to make this world a more musically informed place, my dear drunk Achilles(the legal counsel) decided he’d score tickets to the jazz fest by any means viable. Or unviable, as the case maybe.
The progress of that adventure will be reported on at a later stage.
Meanwhile, the Tambourine Man(and lo! we’ve christened him) must soon return to the uneven Bombay grounds for we seem to be suffering from withdrawal symptoms. Already. Dylan be damned!

Parting shot.
He says: “When will I get to read your blog?”
She says: ” Sometime early next century.”
He says: “C’mon, I might turn into an avid reader.”
She says: “Thats exactly what I fear.”

My turn to flash evil smileys.


~ by iconoplastic on November 26, 2007.

7 Responses to “Hmmferrglucksighhrrr”

  1. Sweetheart is bleeding in the snowcone
    So smart she’s leading me to ozone
    Music the great communicator
    Use two sticks to make it in the nature

    I am afraid we are turning you legit writing space into a karaoke joint!


  2. Be my guest!

  3. you are the whole package…aren’t ya?
    love the style… razor sharp..will keep me comin back for more..
    like jazz?

  4. @ first timer..Much.
    hit me –

  5. treacherous???
    “sod”.. nice..

  6. @ ….

  7. Yes.

    Can I get an encore?
    I *DO* want more!

    p.s.: How is the leg?

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