Sinister: the drums march along at the clip of an I.V. drip ... like sparks from a muffler dragged down the strip

[Richard Gillanders]

this is about the last few days.  might make sense.  I
don't know.

on friday I met two in edinburgh and took them to west
calder.  we listened to some nice music on the way. 
in my opinion.  and I drove safely.  in my opinion. 
we got [to my] home and sat.  we chatted.  we
telephoned another.  a lovely girl.  and we said silly
things to her and she pretended to have nothing to
say.  we went back into edinburgh by train.  and to a
pub in the grassmarket.  the one I always seem to end
up in if I go out in edinburgh.  no rhyme or reason. 
hm.  there's no reason.  and we had drinks and met a
friend and we chatted and there was talk of some music
too.  and we got some chips from the castlerock
fish-bar.  well, WE did.  HE got a single smoked
sausage.  I wish my accent could be as posh.  soon a
man with a beard and no moustache with newly FIXED [by
Jesus] asthma and hernia told us our chips were not
from the castlerock fish-bar at all; they were a gift
from God.  I just remembered: he said that hadn't
taken his tablets for a week.  at home another
outgoing telephone call and one incoming.  or more. 
perhaps.  I forget.  I might have said things that
people might have not understood.  this shouldn't be
held against me.  don't.  but fun.


then a picnic.

all the people arrived.  in dribs and drabs.  but no
drabs.  and we walked out and sat in princes street
gardens and stuff.  by the fountain.  near the
carousel.  which we never went on.  I wanted to.  but
it slipped my mind.  there was more slipping a little
later.  the grass was dry.  we had sun.  briefly.  we
ate food and chatted and all.  a bottle of wine.  for
me.  and I gave G.E.A. some badges and she gave out
three presents from a lovely greek girl and I got to
choose first and I think I got the nicest one and I
could use it as part of my self-damage [not
self-abuse] regime but I won't.  I have a disposable
lighter.  and people talked about getting into norway.
 the hard way.  and only getting a lousy t-shirt.  and
rob did a mean impression of fred durst.  it was mean.
 and he did mean it.  and there WAS a dog vs. squirrel
incident.  unevenly matched.  and the dog's owner who
had been looking for a cigarette earlier lifted it and
laid it to rest.  or something.  in the undergrowth. 
more people arrived and it was a little chilly. 
breezy.  so.  we went up to rose street and found a
pub.  we sat outside and had some drinks and more
chats.  me.  beside thelad96.  outside thepub85.  good
company.  some good jokes here and there.  and there. 
cigarettes.  some disagreements about an opposing
facade.  the one thing, perhaps, I'm missing.  some
accepted/conceded points.  drinks.  some talk of arms.
 arms.  hm.  somewhere.  yeah.  and we went inside and
played the computer thing gambling machine hangman
one.  and won some money.  and lost some.  and ken was
impressed with my knowledge.  maybe cuz I knew steve
bould won the championship with arsenal.  maybe
drinks.  I had some very useful [a truth: useful]
conversations.  and didn't see an umbrella at one
point.  I guessed 'jaws 2' through a window and was
correct.  I think.  some people kissed.  I heard.  the
night finished [for me] with some stumbles [oh, I
stumbled too] and some collapses [not that I recall]
and some encouragement [from me?] [others did it
better].  my judgement, only marginally impaired, told
me it would be the Right Decision to go home.  rather
than elsewhere.  for my own safety and for that of
others.  I decided this.  but told no-one.  and was
soon alone.  and then not.  andrew.  striding through
some sliding doors.  they were open.  it could be
said.  he said 'the glasgow train!'.  and there they
were.  I seized my charge and frog-marched him from
the carriage.  my hand was shaken and I was wished
well.  my charge was a shaken too and wished he was at
home.  boarding the correct train.  after ascending
and descending staircases.  we slept.  both.  at once.
 and for too long.  awoken by the delayed reaction of
my insensitive senses at, of all places, fauldhouse. 
we were out.  the lady who would check our tickets
seemed genuinely upset that she couldn't have roused
us before our desired destination was gone.  a
telephone call with reversed charged was placed and
received and we were collected by my brother.  at home
we smoked and pretended to watch 'dark city'. 
elsewhere... [there will be stories.  I hope.  I have
only had hints of goings on.].


oh.  the brackets.  hints given at calumn's house the
following morning.  hints don't convey a great deal. 
well.  enough.  I did get an idea though.

I HAD FUN ON SATURDAY.  I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DID TOO.


-


yes.  in glasgow the following day for the pernice
brothers at king tut's.  and there were landmarks or
sites of interest highlighted by one or two for the
benefit of one.  or two.  and wandering around
glasgow.  a couple of bars.  and then the show.


supporting were remedy.  they contradicted themselves
completely by having bill bailey on bass.  perhaps it
wasn't bill bailey.  like.  in real life.  just a guy
that looked very like him.  but it was no kind of
remedy.  not for me.  someone said they thought they
seemed to want to be R.E.M..  it seemed to me like
they wanted to be hobotalk.  but I doubt it.  that
they'd.  want it.  things being the way they seem. 
ed.

someone else supported.  I forget.

I don't have anything against middle-aged ladies. 
[some of my best friends are middle aged ladies].  nor
do I have anything against denim jackets.  or people
who frequently glance to their right.  or left.  [I do
this often].  I have nothing against big, stupid hair.
 [no: mine is neither].  I have nothing against people
who stand directly in front of me at gigs.

last night a middle-aged lady with a denim jacket and
big, stupid hair who frequently glanced to her right
and her left stood directly in front of me at a gig. 
I was annoyed.  really.  and I didn't want to be.  to
add insult to injury.  the man she was with was bald
and chewed incessantly and pretended to know the words
to songs.  needless to say I have nothing against
baldness, incessant chewing or pretending to know
words to songs.
I enjoyed the gig all the same.  despite.  and even
removed my hands from my pockets or from a folded
arrangement to clap at appropriate intervals.  oh. 
and to smoke.  I amazed myself by not trying to tip
ash into the middle-aged et cetera lady's open
handbag.

he [joe [john] pernice] definitely has something of
elvis costello about him.  maybe his voice.  or face. 
or mannerisms.  I wrote an essay on mannerism.  it
didn't make a lot of sense but it wouldn't be that
that let me down.  yes: I consider joe [john] pernice
to be an attraction.

a walk to the thirteenth note club.  a conference.  a
taxi ride.  a texaco.  a bottle of irn-bru.  a tube of
pringles.  a half empty flat.  a dragged mattress.  a
conversation.  a sleep.  a clearance.  a fruitless
visit to an institution.  a drive home.  a lunch of
melted cheese on toasted bread.  a lift to the railway
station.  a farewell.  a train.

I ENJOYED MYSELF OVER THE WEEKEND.  I HOPE EVERYONE
ELSE DID TOO.  I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH PEOPLE
ENJOYING ME.  I hope everyone else enjoyed themselves.
 too.

that's almost it.  apart from the bits I missed.  I
think I might have included some that wouldn't have
been missed.  if I hadn't.  but.

but,
richard.



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