Hello there,
Jeepers, this feels like writing a letter home from a holiday. I’ve
evidently left it too long. There are now far too many things to say and not
enough detail remembered from any to make them interesting. Regardless,
it’ll all just end up as a chronological list of events anyway.
So far I have not yet shared the countless stories that have been part of my
jaunt, including tales of debauchery, drinking, love, drinking, weddings,
drinking, couches, drinking, pavements, drinking, dancing, gigs and a little
bit more drinking. Infact, if I were a small elephant, which I’m not, then
I’d be dead, which I’m not. Then again, if I were a large elephant, I’d
still have one hell of a hangover. So thankfully I’m just a boy with a
rotting liver instead.
Beyond these tales of Scottish hyjinx there is yet more to be told of the
stalking of a certain group of boys going under the name of the Lucksmiths,
sleeping with said quarter of the Greek massive and spending more time on
busses than time sober. But still, after those stories have faded into the
night, there is still the account of my further travel to the distant shores
of Laura Land.
As a result of my ingestion of copious amounts of alcohol, my mind is not
what it once was, and the large majority of the stories mentioned above have
been forgotten in the abyss of inebriation. In llew I shall attempt to
traverse the tightrope of tales filled with wit and whimsy. Failing that
I'll just ramble for a bit.
As I write this I’m sat at Miss Llew’s computer. As I write that I’m sat,
writing this at Miss Llew’s computer, I realise that I am in a position of
great privilege. Few, if any, (barring the very goddess herself) have sat in
such high places whilst posting. I was hoping that this fact might coax my
post towards greatness, but I fear that I shall be let down by my own
performance. Perhaps I should reinvent myself for a bit of a creative kick.
Someone suggested becoming a man with a penchant for capes and mascara.
Depending on the colour of both that could be fun. I’m thinking a red
flowing cape and shiny silver mascara (perhaps even some eyeliner and little
bit of lippy too) would give me something to post about. Problem is it would
probably only be about how many stitches some guy gave me on the weekend and
how many bruises I’ve amassed in a day. Oh well, it’s better than nothing!
Oh yes, I seem to remember Miss Vicky Vodkabird saying something about
wanting a mention or two. I can’t remember whether you wanted just Vic,
Vicky, Voddy, V-Diddy, Vicklemeister or just Ho! That enough for you love?
Since arriving in the Land of Llew I have been shown a great deal of the
state she’s in (sorry for the shite joke…blame ken!). We have perused
bookstores, sampled a large cross-section of the cheeseburger market,
climbed mountains (not without the aid of the indispensable car) and watched
classic films (Harold and Maude anyone?). Plus, I managed to endanger Miss
Llew and the rest of the nation by getting myself behind the wheel of a
motor vehicle. Thankfully nobody was killed, well, not that I know of.
Finally, I’ve been asked to write a small dedication to the Divine Comedy,
who are no more. Well, I can’t say I knew them well, cause I didn’t, so I
won’t. I can’t say that they touched my life profoundly and deeply, cause
they didn’t, so I won’t. I can’t say that I even knew they had split up
until Sweetie told me, cause I didn’t, so I won’t. Therefore, all that’s
left is to say “Well done chaps”, pat them all on the back and present them
with a lovely antique carriage clock.
So, I shall now return to the wonderful world of llew and bid you all a fond
farewell. In closing, if anyone in London is free anytime from the 1st until
the 10th of November, it is in your best interests to seek me out for drinks
and frivolity. Otherwise I shall be forced to bite your noses off. And that
would be unpleasant.
For the rest of you…bad luck. I’ll see you all in Glasgow soon enough.
takes hold of the reins of his mighty stead and gallops off into the setting
sun
Breams
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