Love..............a song

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again Oh, no!

Downing the Dancing Queen

One from the vaults.................

It all started on Wednesday as I was tucking into a Big Ranch Microwave Quarter Pounder and some McCains. Gets a phone call from the estranged Mel asking if I wanted to go to a 70’s fancy dress disco. No mention of the porn ring or a sniff of an apology but I thought I’d let sleeping dogs lie. I said I’d go and dug out me platform boots and white jumpsuit. She was going as Agnetha and wanted me to be her Benny.

Turned up the place and it was full of the usual Croydon pram faces and a few surly youths drinking Stella and tugging at their groins. Mel looked more Aggie from How clean is your house than Agnetha from ABBA but she was still attracting lurching lads at the side of the dance floor. There was nowt there that I was interested in so I just stuffed my face at the free buffet and got trolleyed.

It was getting near closing time when YMCA came on and me and Mel made a dash for the dance floor. Mel slipped on half a sausage roll and pulled me down with her. I put my hand out to break my fall and connected with a pint glass that this bint in a halter neck and afro had put on the floor while she snogged a bloke from Showaddywaddy. Blood started spurting out me hand and wrist. It was going everywhere. Mel fainted as usual. She can’t even look at her own tampons without blacking out. Things were looking serious so the bouncer phoned 999 and tied a pair of tights round my arm to try and stop the bleeding. By the time the ambulance arrived my jumpsuit was covered in blood and I was feeling a bit woozy.

5 minutes later I’m back at Croydon General and rushed in for a quick stitch up. They couldn’t knock me out cos I was bladdered but I didn’t feel a thing. They were gonna have to keep me in for observation but no free beds so they stuck me in a corridor in a wheelchair.

An hour later and I was gasping for a fag so I asked this dumpy nurse with sparse hair and glasses if she’d wheel me outside for a ciggie. She mumbled something under her breath in Portuguese and took me out to the main entrance of A&E.

I was sat there in my bloodstained ABBA jumpsuit lighting up for a second time when this skinny man who smelled of wee staggered over. He swayed about for a minute and squinted his eyes and said ‘Can I have a taxi to Thornton Heath mate‘.............................

Love.............a poem

Angel breath fills our very being
Shining souls with velvet blood
A creeping dusk, the vampire hunger
Dark crimson tears obscure the light.

Wings strive to rise on morning mist
Held back by fear and icy words
Sinking under tumbling waters
Breathless, drowning in the dark.

Tram Trauma

Right it's nearly Halloween and have I had a gutfull of ghouls already. Channel 4 forums aside ;-) things had been pretty harmonious at home. Had over 2 weeks off work and although all my excursion plans and trips had to be cancelled due to building work in my kitchen the end result was worth it. Lovely kitchen and a pretty chilled Steps!

I hardly recognize my kitchen now and find myself gliding around in there with a Dettox surface wipe far too often than is healthy for a 6'3 bloke with a No1 crop and tattoos.

Only a few bits need doing now. Housemate has volunteered to do the tiling. Very nice of him and I am appreciative but he's one of these DIY Dangers that starts things but never finishes so I'm cautiously delighted.

He bought a huge shed/garden workshop kit to put up the end of the garden. Had it delivered, started to level off the ground where he was going to build it. 2 years later the level ground is a cat litter for the local felines and when I look out my bedroom window all I can see is 2 tons of pine rotting under a bright green tarpaulin.

Anyway he made a start and the tiles were looking magnificent. Perfect match. Very butch if I say so myself. You may remember that I'm getting quite blaze about going to the DIY sheds after recent expeditions. So when housemate says he needs some tile edging I leap to the rescue and tell him I'll nip over to Tile Base and get some. I could see the slightly unsure look crossing his face and after much silent shuffling he agreed that I couldn't do much harm with such a task.

Feeling dead chuffed and almost like a pseudo-builder's mate I pop down the road and catch a tram to the Tile Base Superstore just in time for school's out! Tram was packed with kids in baseball caps, polyester and arses hanging round their knees. There's a lot to be said for school uniforms.

Gets to Tile Base at last after suffering the stench of a sweaty kid who looked like he'd come straight off the basketball court after a marathon match and was stuffing his face with 2 Big Macs. Not a smell I care to encounter again. Must be on the look out for the McD/Acrylic combo in future.

The place has what I need. 2 lengths of tile edging in black. Perfect! Leave the shop looking even more pleased with myself and head for home. Whilst waiting for the tram I suddenly noticed that the other people waiting were giving me strange looks. I pretended not to noticed and shuffled around looking at my mobile phone for no reason and reading the barcode on the tile edge strip. Some people are so rude I thought. 2 minutes before the tram arrives.

It's at this point I suddenly look up to the end of the 8 foot long pieces of tile edging. Yes. I said 8 foot. OH SHIT!

As the tram approaches I can see my fellow waiters whispering to each other and a pushchair Mum with greasy hair and equally greasy child rolls her eyes at me and inspects her false nails. I return her eye rolls and throw in a screwed up nose into the bargain.

The tram's here. Doors open. It's quite busy. SHIT! I lower the edging strips and edge in the door almost knocking the cap off an old bloke who's dancing around in the gangway trying to get out the way. I try and pull up and the strips smack against the ceiling making a noise like the electricity lines have snapped. 2 old dears obviously headed for bingo let out a shriek and before they have time to wallop me with their bag of bingo markers an Inspector appears. 'You can't bring that on here mate' he says. I look indignant and desperately trying to maintain my cool blurt out ' Well how do you expect me to get get this home!'

I could have crawled into the old blokes cap. Why did I say that? The whole place was now a mix of sniggers and tutting and my face was beetroot.

I got off the tram pretending to be furious at the way I had been treated. Probably looked a bit like Diana Ross after being frisked at Heathrow. Stormed back to the shop who very kindly gave me a refund whilst I ranted on about public transport and pensioners traveling during peak hours. By the time I got home I was quite calm again and told housemate what had happened.

He looked at me in disbelief and said 'Why didn't you just get the shop to cut it in half'.............