The Owl And The Pussycat

I write this from The Owl And The Pussycat, on East London's Redchurch Street. I remember Jeffrey Bernard always used to go on about how the Coach And Horses was his office. All his phonecalls went there, and he'd spend a little time, between cursing the barstaff and telling tall tales, scribbling witticisms on napkins. Now I sit here tapping into my laptop and uploading songs to my MySpace page. Truly, we are living in the future. Writing that immediately makes me think too, of how we are living in the past, or at leas how certain fake-Christian fundamentalist freakoes are trying to send us back there. But I'll not continue on that thread right now. I have a whisky and a cigarette and a packet of cashews, and Ah Ha are on the jukebox. Right now I like this bubble, and I want no meanness in it.

So, I was asked by Miscreant to list my current top ten tunes. This was at about 2 am last night, well, this morning, and they were these.

Oh, and my lovely press lady Rhiannon pointed this in my direction today. A virtual hotel full of nutbars! Safe!

Right, Trey just turned up, so I shall peace out.