onsdag 7 november 2007

Gasp

Oh my god. Skummar bulkmailen och hittar ett mail från Esque. Nu på fredag bjuder dom in Andrew Weatherall, nåt jag haft våta drömmar om i minst tio år. Hur upplagt för antiklimax är inte det. Ah, jag måste bajsa.

Ur herrns mun under åren:

Instead of standing in forests eating babies, I have tattoos done with skulls, it's a lot easier.

I'm not a big fan of the digeridoo.

I get home to Stockwell and you can hear car systems blaring Mark Morrison, mad aeroplane noises, industrial fans, cars going by all making up mad rhythms with actual music over the top be it dub or techno. I'm not getting out of a cab and hearing waves crashing and rain forest chants. I haven't got the sound of a Goa party running round my head. Thank God.

I was thinking that whoever can repair dry stone walls has got a job for life so I'm taking up a six month course to learn how to repair them.


Andrew Weatherall - Edie 11



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