Friday, April 23, 2004

He’s Simple, He’s Dumb, He’s The Pilot 

Its not some throwaway decision you take lightly, like choosing between cornflakes and toast, or joining a political party. Previous personal gurus have included John Peel, Stephen Fry and Kirstie Allsopp, but today I am very pleased, nay delighted, to announce that my new person-with-whom-I-agree-on-just-about-everything-they-ever-say is none other than Norfolk’s very own Jonny Billericay. Congratulations.

I felt a bit crappy this morning. I was a smidge crappy about this, and a tad crappy about that. Crappy that I seem to have been sleeping at the wheel a bit lately. Whatever.

So to pick myself up, I gave my happy glands a booster injection by reading I Don’t Believe It, start to finish, during my lunch hour. Woo, get me, speed reading! Jonny B is a very very funny man (if he really is a man - he could be a girl from Ipanema for all I know), full of reason and common sense, and I’ve decided that if anything untoward ever happens to me, I want him to take custody of my comedy hat collection.
By the time I’d finished, I couldn’t have felt more uplifted if I’d been wearing a wonder bra. And I’ll discuss man bras with you some other time, but not today.

The afternoon was peppered with emails from Girlfriend telling me she was a geek, something she was clearly a little excited about. “I’m a geek! La la la! I’m a geek!” She’d surprised herself by scoring highly in a “How Geeky Are You?” test in this month’s Focus magazine.
In the evening she ran a few questions by me:

Did you enjoy these films?
Star Wars - No. Don’t appeal to me. Sorry.
The Matrix - No. Watched first one. Didn’t understand. Or care.
Tron - Never heard of it. Sorry.
Dark Star - Ditto.

Have you ever played…? Tetris. Yes. Doom. No. Elite; Everquest - these last two could be trick questions for all I know.

Have you ever worn…?
Retro clothes or trainers - Only in the seventies. Ha ha ha.
An anorak in summer. - Obviously. What if it rains? Who’s laughing then?
All black - Quite a lot. Very sexy and hides food stains.
T-shirt with computer company logo - Only when I’m jogging and my skimpy vest is in the wash.

Do you own any of these albums? Now you’re talking. Bring it on baby.
OK Computer - Radiohead. Does the Pope wear a funny hat?
The Sophtware Slump - Grandaddy. I own their albums, they own my soul.
Metal Machine Music - Lou Reed. Fuck off.
Zaireeka - The Flaming Lips. Never heard of it, but will probably purchase tonight if I have trouble sleeping again.

Do You Own A…?
Web site. Two. One for my music. Domain name now expired. One for photography. Probably still around, haven’t checked for years.
Domain name. No.

Gulp. Sweaty palms. Palpitations. Discomfort in the trouser regions. Say something, idiot. Say something smart or funny, something to throw her off guard. Or just say something stupid, that would be less suspicious. Come on, say anything.
“Hey look! Its just past seven. Time for The Archers.”
Everything stops in our house for The Archers. Time itself has to stand still and wait while David shoots badgers or Ruth burns convenience food, cheesy Helen dumps grumpy Grogg, or Ed and Jazzer grow dope in Tony’s barn, and perhaps Adam and Ian make out behind the kitchens. It all goes on.

And then we went swimming. Phew! I think the coast is clear.

Incidentally, a creepy shrine is not a creepy shrine without a few photos, so come on Jonny B, my email address is on the left.

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