Sinister: My one regret is that I never got to Ongar. And now I never will.

[Funkyseb at xxx.com]

you lot wrote:
<<...when you're lucky you come across a whole crayfish.Toggenburg Nanny
Goat,kittens at a lady's breastShe's going to the jimmy Buffet making a bleak
playback Tag is the cheesemeister.>>

Fantastic! surrealism makes a baffling come back to the list. Yaaay!
<<have a private disco in the comfort of your living room, which now looks
like the Jeepster HQ>>
D'you want to hear my Jeepster HQ annecdote? Probably not. Oh well:

It was back in the bad old days before the list, when I did social things in
the open air. Actually, I didn't. I used to spend my days riding to the end of
each underground line, have a cup of tea, and then come back again. It's not
something to be proud of, but it cost very little, wasted a lot of time,  and
at the end of the day, you had a tiny sense of achievement. I have seen
Upminster!
        
         Anyway, having exhausted that hobby, one day, after yet another crap
audition for another crap commercial, it hit me- why don't I make a pilgrimage
to Canalot? The glittering castle, where the beautiful people who signed the
beautiful people live? So I made a plan.
         I'd lost my A-Z, but I had a vague I idea where Kensal Rd was, and I
set out sure that I'd see the whole band, and they'd offer me some cake, and
we'd all get along fine.
         But after three hours, I was still stuck in the rain near Willesden.
The railway carriage was lit by one functioning light bulb, which a gang of 12
year olds were busy trying to murder. I stared out the window with wet eyes at
the InterCitys flashing past underneath. Speeding along at 70 mph can make you
feel like you're going somewhere. The train's so sure of its destination that
you can forget your own aimlessness. But when you're sat in a siding, in the
rain, there's nothing that can quite hide the truth. That you're not going
anywhere. 
          
          I eventually got to Kensal Rise. Late in the day, as the grey sky
slowly turned to orange. But Kensal Rise isn't Kensal Road. Jeepster was still
a mile away. I'd spent the whole day trying to get somewhere, and in the end,
it wasn't even the place I wanted to go.
  That night I dreamed of Jeepster, dreamt I'd got there. It was an old
cinema, full of people, all talking and having fun. But when they saw me, it
all when quiet. And then they left.
           Mmm, a parable for you there. And a dream.
        I dreamt I saw the cover of the next album last night. It looked damn
good. And I know the tracklisting. But it's too late to tell you now.
Fluffy Starry wrote:
<<Stop being such wankers you lot about READING THE ARCHIVES!!! >>
Sorry. I'm being a bit of a old git aren't I? I didn't realise how arsey I
sounded, telling people what to post. And you don't really have a diseased
mind. Well, only in a nice way.
             You know who I hate, BTW? People from Sussex. Well, 80% of them.
With their little white signposts, and their rural pubs...pah! They come over
here (Kent) and think they own the bloody place....foreigners!

seb
 (what a dull post. Still, the Richard Rowntree joke yesterday was pretty
good, eh?)
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