Oh wandering spirit in my soul, guiding me away from trouble and blasting me forward into the furnace of life – I embrace you, hold you and cherish you. I cherish this time, this day, this very second. I love my life, I love Bronwyn (deep, deeper), I love myself, I love the earth, the trees, the birds. My inner vision (and outer vision) now expanded with world awareness, my third eye open to positive elements (earth, wind and fire – oh yes, I feel a lot of funk in my life) and all that hippy mumbo jumbo shit.
Like someone said to us today, “you cannot convey to someone who hasn’t been to Australia, the space and feeling of freedom” and also it is that “that intimidates some people while others embrace it” and you see what I feel.
To bring you up to date we spent three pretty torturous stressy days at home together with a lot of all our stresses surfacing and causing us brief frictions but we understand each other and our situation and realistically just why these things are occurring as I probably explained some text earlier. So the last thing we wish to worry about is getting married yet this is what we’ve thrown ourselves into and we trip out to Bathurst where Broni and her 8 brothers and sisters were raised and her mum and dad still live.
6th Mar 2021 – My very first passport tells me we arrived in Sydney, Australia on the 28th of September 1994. We had a stopover in Bangkok where I recall seeing rows of shanty buildings as we approached the airport and the tropical heat made it inside the plane before landing. I don’t recall anything about the wait at the airport there though. I remember a rough landing in Sydney though not certain of the time of day – I think it was daylight but also recall leaving the terminal in the twilight. The customs officers were both friendly and suspicious and once in the open air, as I was told I would, I was immediately hit with the sweet smell of lemon-scented gum trees. I believe it took 23 hours from take-off at Heathrow to touch down in Sydney and besides the expected jetlag, I was full of delirium, joy and excitement.
My first passport. My stupid signature is still stupid too.Visa stating must get married before 12th April 1995.
6th August 2021 – At Heathrow my mum shed a few tears as she wished us farewell. We also saw Paul Weller sitting in one of the cafes waiting for a plane to somewhere.
Good news punk rockers, good news. A long-standing member of the scene in Southampton, is, at last, fucking off to Australia.
Unfortunately for me, I’ve known this person for many years + I’ve seen him change + for the worse in my opinion.
I’ll not be sorry to see him go that’s for sure! Now I can start coming to gigs again, knowing I won’t have to put up with his ugly smiling face + all his happy cheery positive talk. God, that guy was always looking on the bright side – I couldn’t fuckin’ stand it – it was insulting to my intelligence.
I’ve been keeping well clear of him for ages now, him + his obnoxious girlfriend. I blame her for his happiness.
Let’s face it kiddies, punk rock is not about being happy, it’s about isolation, pain + fucking shit up. About being miserable + paranoid + frustrated. These things are the fuel of the punk rock fire.
I ask you, how can anyone be happy + punk rock? You can’t + don’t argue with me ‘cos 1 should know, I’ve been like this for years.
Well, things can get back to normal now + it’s great that. I can come to gigs again. That makes me happy… erm… I guess?
Shaun’s Show
Mr Cynical happy? Who’d’ve thought? Looks like we won’t be seeing him again + you also won’t be seeing me again, ‘though you can still enjoy my future writings here + in ‘Suspect Device’. In case you didn’t know, I’m the one off to Australia. For those who don’t know who I am, I’m the guy in loud shirts, who’s been selling records in the corner at the Joiners. I’ve given THIRST! plenty of abuse when they’ve played + I’ve been too drunk to be coherent sometimes (but that describes any number of people!). I’ve been involved in the scene in one way or another for 9 years + the effort I’ve put in has reaped its rewards with great memories + new friends (still making new friends at the last gig). I’d like to thank all those people who’ve been there for me in times of need + whose floors I’ve slept on + whose memories I’ve rifled over the years. People who’ve fed me, bought me beers, given me joints, or taken me to gigs. They’ll all say they’ve seen me change over the years + welcomed + accepted that change. I know most people prefer me the way I am now, as opposed to 3 years ago. I was a cynical, obnoxious, loud-mouthed stubborn opinionated git. All those people who stood by me deserve much credit for remaining friends. I never knew I had so many. They know (as I now do) that the reward is in the giving + not in the taking. People who come to Southampton will find out for themselves just how good the scene is + I wish the best to all those involved – past, present + future. Spread the word cos the word is good. Remember ‘We Are The Magic People’.
Besides all that malarkey, there’s a couple of things that need addressing re: the STE Bulletin. First of all, is Queer Rob’s column regarding porn. Time has been against me in talking directly to Rob, so I’ll put it down here. Rob, your views on porn are ignorant + misguided. When we did speak, you asked me what knowledge I’ve had in regards to porn + unfortunately, the conversation got interrupted.
Well, a few years ago, I helped put together a fanzine that dealt with issues of sex + sexuality, one of the issues being porn. I studied the subject from all angles, so I do have some idea of what goes on and what others think of it. First of all, porn is made for men, by men. That might be a huge generalisation but I can’t think of an example of a film that was made for women.
Men make money out of it, lots of money + all over the world. Sex sells, I’m sure we all know that. It is a sexist business. Just like being a chef, you imagine all the people who cook to be women but all the top-paid chefs are men. So it is the women get to be on screen for a meagre wage, while the men get to rake in the profit.
Secondly, you say that these films are not degrading to women, because what they do is out of choice. The point here is about the way women are always portrayed in submissive roles in porn films – that is blatant sexism. I’ll give you some examples of films I have to hand. 1st: film ‘Virgin Ass’. Storyline/introduction/clothes off (2 minutes), oral sex carried out by her (2 mins), she mounts him, (2 mins), various positions that quickly reverse the dominating role ie he takes control (6 mins), anal sex (any guesses who carries that out on whom! – 2 mins), cum shot: (most cum shots revolve around her giving oral sex, again because it makes for a better film because the cum is visual. It is also a very dominating action.
If you like the sound of that, you can see just how lovely this is at home by inserting a carrot all the way into your anus, withdraw it + take a bite. You’ll notice the time will invariably be between 10 + 15 minutes, that is known as the ultimate wank time.
2nd film ‘Lesbian Trio’. 3 naked women with various sex toys, performing mutual masturbation + oral sex in various positions. This type of film is aimed directly at the male market. It is a common male fantasy to sleep with more than 1 woman, who perform lesbian acts together too. Male homosexual movies are also aimed at the male market.
Final film ‘Love Triangle’. Same as the first film, except her performing oral sex at the same time as vaginal sex, ending up with both vaginal + anal sex at the same time, ending with cum shot over face + in mouth.
Can you see the domination messages that that film is sending out to sad four-eyed five-knuckle shufflers everywhere? If people get off on it, then that’s fine but people who don’t understand that porn films are degrading to women are ignorant. That’s no crime, just a sad fact of life. Porn films make me realise that I’ve got much better things to do with my time.
Now I’ve heard it recently that people thought Rob Callen’s last column was too long + going over old ground. Well, I will say it here that Rob’s columns are by far the most interesting to read + so what if it means having to sacrifice the regular picture, maybe Rich could do away with his band listing, or start using some of the cover?
Rob is the most open, honest, selfless person amongst all the people I know in Southampton + it really fucks me off that people are always quick to knock him or ignore him. All he wants is for you to be open + honest with him, which is the very fuckin’ message he’s been saying over + over in his columns. If he’s repeating himself, maybe it’s because he’s not yet found those qualities in his friends being offered up. Think about it guys!
I hope to have a book out in early ’95, which is based on my life in 1994, which shows the major changes I have gone through in this exciting year. All your fave characters will be there + I hope when read it will encourage people to go out + grab life by the handlebars + seek out their destinies, be they in suburban Eastleigh, grimy London or sunny Sydney.
OPPORTUNITY OF THE MASSES WITH ROB
First off, I must apologise for everything that I’ll be going to say in this column because I just know it won’t make sense to anyone! Let me try to explain why:
Imagine yourself looking into the friendly eyes of some people that you’ve come to know + you see a myriad of shifting thoughts reflected in their eyes. Maybe your own thoughts are in there somewhere, because on some occasions you’ve seen what they’ve seen + have experienced the same things + had the same thoughts that they’ve had + through this slow process of getting to know them, you start to find out everything you’ve taken for granted + all the things you didn’t say because you thought it was inappropriate + all the ideas you had but didn’t have the courage to put them into practice, all came suddenly together + are brought into a clearer perspective, by talking to people who’ve showed a lot of respect + who talk honestly about their experiences + expectations.
I’m thinking about 2 people in particular, who won’t be with me/you for too much longer, for they are going home/emigrating to Australia + I think this is one reason why sometimes I tend to look at things with a sense of urgency, because it seems there are things which I do which I’m only gonna get one chance at – like playing in a band, or writing, or just talking to people, to see what’s on their mind.
Let’s talk about friends who emigrate first (!). Opportunities like this only come up once or twice, if at all, in a lifetime + obviously takes courage + a lot of thought + soul-searching to go through with.
However, even though I’ll really miss them both, for Shaun’s cool perspective on life + Bronwyn’s kind thoughtfulness, let me just say that through them (+ a few other good people I know, which included Steve), my perspective on lots of simple basic things keeps on changing. There’s not normally a day that goes past when I haven’t thought about it.
I’m not saying I’ve changed into a better person, or found “happy happy, joy joy”, cos basically I’m still the same old geezer but: what I might: have now is a stupid optimism, to look at everything as an opportunity + to not worry about problems but to laugh at them + to laugh at myself for laughing at them!
Maybe I’m getting off the point. The point is that: Shaun + Bronwyn have seen an opportunity (even if it’s rather an obvious one) + are grasping it with both hands. This is just a point that comes back to me, over + over again in that old NEWTOWN NEUROTICS song ‘Wake Up’, which goes: “Make the most of your life every day + every opportunity that comes your way”. To me these words are more than lyrics in a punk rock song, they summarise what Shaun + Bronwyn are doing + show me what you, I or anyone can achieve by just looking around the next corner, by opening up your horizons + by just making the time + effort to show people our good side occasionally.
So with keeping opportunity. in mind, let’s reconsider what I wrote in the first sentence. Maybe I shouldn’t have apologised – maybe I should have seen this as an opportunity not to put myself down but to say a big thank you to everyone who’s taken the time to look into my eyes + who has seen their own thoughts in there somewhere.
For although you might be 1,000 miles away in a new city, or new country + a new life there will be times when I’ll think of you + you’ll no doubt think about the people you knew here too, which will stir us to keep in contact – but not only with each other but with many more people that will come our way. It’ll be hard but the hardest things are sometimes worth taking chances on + fighting for. So let’s not, take this as the end but as a start of new experiences, of new hopes + most importantly of all, of new friends.
You didn’t need me to say this but I’ve said it anyway because I had the opportunity to do so. I’m not saying goodbye, just good luck!
Keep holding on to your goals + don’t let anyone get you down, for you can rest assured that in our own way, we’ll be doing the same, for we won’t be growing apart, we’ll be growing together with what is in our eyes + in our hearts.
After feeling a bit rough in the stomach department and then stuffing a huge pizza on Thursday, there was nothing for it ‘cept to take Friday off! So I spent a lazy day ambling about in Poole, Just a walk away across the park from where we live now. The park is full of mad ducks and geese and swans all crowing about looking for food off the tourists. And when Broni returned from her work (she’s now winding down too, thankfully!) we set off on the buses for Bournemouth back to good Chinese food and then a dash down to the beach at 10pm, through all the crowds, to catch a firework display. We got to the beach as the last rocket exploded! Luckily we’d been able to see all the aerial light show high in the sky. We were pretty drunk by this time and I guess we got home on the bus somehow!
Saturday was spent lazily too and in the evening we went up to Consumers Paradise to see ‘The Flintstones’. I enjoyed it greatly thanks to a few puffs of magic smoke. We attempted a walk in the park on our return but we got too paranoid with all the dimly lit paths and alleys and ominous shadows of trees. We had to crash out early to get up at half five to catch the early bird bus up to London. And so we trekked back across the park in the early dawn, both still sleepy-eyed.
On the bus, we spread out, my back with an aching hurt making me sit bolt upright and I read William Burroughs and Broni read Roddy Doyle. In the blink of an eye we’re off the bus to a quiet sunny Sunday in central London. First stop for refreshments at the Fountain Cafe, and then into the tube across town to Islington to Piers at Mildmay Grove (now made famous (of sorts) in a poem, to Piers’ amusement).
Soon after arrival, Piers’ Orstraylian friend, Andrew, turned up with enthusiasm for our ‘freeways’, “strewth, knocking on the ton most of the way, just to keep up with people!” He assured us I’d have a great time in Sydney, “Bedder then heya, thet’s fer shore!” Soon he dropped us off near Euston after a 100mph car ride through London’s busy streets. “Oi luv those corners, especially with the four-wheel droive.” and some off the cuff remark while we were talking about money he noted about a fellow car driver “that blek fella’s dun awright fer ‘imself droiving a rolla, must be a drag ranner!” No sign of irony, sarcasm, hatred or even ignorance. Beyond ignorance!
Piers took us to Chutnie for Sunday lunch. An Indian restaurant with a three pounds ninety-five, all you can eat menu. OK food, but no popadoms! Piers then took us to various parts of London, all on foot, which was good but after a while, in the wrong places, we got fed up with the people everywhere.
Piers left us to it as he had to dash off to some BBQ and soon after Broni and I lost our rag, poisoned by the city I’m sure. After making up we started to realise just how tired we were and how fed up with all the tourist traps we were. Things got worse as we searched for food nourishment around tea time. My back pain had transferred to chest pain and as we sat drinking an orange juice and water I got scared and cried at the memory of Steve saying “could be the grim reaper for me” after seeing the doctor about chest pains, just days before his death. Then, frustrated, we found an American diner in Leicester Square with the vague hope of getting well-fed but all we got was fed up with shitty garlic bread and nachos with no guacamole – what the fuck! Totally overpriced too for the tourist boom – it was here we started to hate London and it’s consumer nightmare. Buy or die. Charging over a pound for a coffee is just pure rip-off and taking advantage of people – I can’t believe people are sucked in so easily but you are constantly bombarded by it.
We tubed over to Victoria to prepare to leave and things got decidedly evil. I paid 20p for a piss and approached the urinal thinking to myself, stand at the opposite end to the drain hole so you don’t have to smell everyone else’s piss. I’d done the wrong thing as I was thinking that, of course, but made a mental note to do that next time. As all that was going on in my head I became aware of some dude stood two booths away. Looking down I saw no signs of piss flowing down the drain and realised this guy was jerking himself off as he looked over at me. I quickly finished up and fled feeling a bit flustered. Not sickened but saddened by this behaviour. I felt strange for several minutes and as I walked up the stairs at Victoria I saw the shadow of Satan’s angel cast on the ground. I turned and looked up but, nothing! A very real experience probably easily explained but in my emotional state, very believable. And suddenly the city seemed insidious, dirty, depraved and evil and as we begged to leave, our coach was delayed. Only memorable point was while we were waiting, catching a girl’s eye by chance and her smiling at me!
Bussed home eventually, me looking after Broni as her health deteriorated by the poison of the day until she puked as we walked back across the park, now shrouded in darkness, ‘cept sky lit up by wandering searchlights touching the low-level cloud with fingers of fire.
Back at work today, still sad inside with thoughts of the dead city and Broni coming home ill after half a day’s work. I went to the doctors about my wrist again, where I was palmed off with the same old rest and recuperate rubbish. I think there’s more to it and have booked to see another doctor tomorrow. This has been very painful to write I’ll remind you – sympathy, please!
I’m getting excited about leaving now and frightened too but not so much as I’d expected. It seems like I’m just moving house – difficult to explain. Hey – had a great long cool chat with Rob on Saturday night – one cool dude is our Rob. Remember, Rob is God.
Hi, my name is Shaun, I interviewed you guys for 3 Parent Family fanzine back in 90/91 (?) and was looking forward to seeing you guys play. Unfortunately, destiny has dealt me a bad hand on that score as you can see from the above tour diary, and now to finish it off you are playing in my local scene just weeks after I leave to go and live in Australia!!!
Maybe you could dedicate a song to me when you play? How about the tour song off Bivouac??
Hope it all goes well for you and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to see you guys someday.
Let us know if you’re ever planning to play Australia!!
Love and Respect
22nd Oct 2024 – If memory serves me correctly I gave a copy of this typewritten letter to Rich Levine in the hope that he passed it to the band before they played in Southampton that year. I’m not sure if that actually happened or not though.
Then up to Old Sarum, the old town of Salisbury in Roman times, with magnificent views, particularly of the Roman roads that met their 2000 years back. We sunbathed and slid down banks, climbed up them and avoided paying to get in. A way cool place – go see.
We videoed some wildflowers and wild insects and then headed home to Poole where Broni, Rob, John and I went down the pub for dinner and a couple of beers to celebrate/commiserate, before walking down to Kerry’s to watch a video. Unfortunately we picked Body of Evidence. What crap! Nuff said.
So’s, after watching a bit of the third-place play-off in the World Cup (Sweden well ahead though still don’t know the final score) we stumbled home drunkenly and guess what? I can’t remember anything else of that night. Ho-hum.
But Sunday, once again I woke wrapped in Broni and let’s just say we didn’t get up for an hour or two us being too interested in each other. But breakfasted on, then mad rushed us fab foul four again to the beach to meet Chrissy, Sharon (Steve’s sister), Amanda (Chrissy’s daughter), Luke (Sharon’s son – The maddest baddest little bastard ever! And of course exceptionally cute in his few years of age – totally lovable!) and Jennifer (Amanda and Luke’s friend). So for five hours, we played football, catch, volleyball, frisbee and Luke’s special game ‘knock you over and jump on top of you and throw sand in your face!’ We all spent most of the day laughing and playing and having good old-fashioned childish fun. You can’t begrudge that can you?
Exhausted we came home, Rob back up to Southampton, me and John to watch the football (sprawled out in the front room) and Broni upstairs to watch the film ‘She’ll Be Wearing Pink Pyjamas’. The football, the World Cup final, was a slight disappointment though reasonably entertaining and a shame to be settled on penalties at the end, sparking the age-old debate of how to settle a stalemate match. It being late and us exhausted we still found some enthusiasm for an idea would come up with holding a party on the Saturday before we are evicted. The cunning bitch Julie left on Saturday afternoon, thankfully, which is an immense relief all round – the last we hear from her I hope though we may have to chase her up for bills sooner or later.
And so it came to Monday – the day of little occurrence of note, save John and I playing frisbee up at the park, in the most delicate beautiful rain and humidity, till darkness swamped the evening. When I got back me and Broni played silly buggers till bedtime recharging ourselves with each other’s love and closeness.
We also, over the weekend, decided that if Rob comes to Oz for the wedding, he’ll be our best man. Hey man, cool – will ask him soon. And everything will be mad frenzy now, packing, sorting, writing letters, changing addresses, closing bank accounts and fucking partying. Go dudes! Oh yes, good can come from bad – just watch us prove it.
(Later) Phew. It’s scorching hot, preparation for the coming summer in Australia (destiny – what the card!) Drove across some wide-open land today, fields upon fields of corn and crops, cows and the bull. Down dusty tired tracks by dung heaps, open space is like…it’s like….freedom. At the end of that journey was a farm with a pretty farmer’s daughter and her way cute two-year-old (I’m guessing) and a handsome farm boy who would charm the undies off a nun if maybe he wasn’t the village idiot, knowing nothing else but muck and chicken shit. (This is all in my mind of course – who knows what these people may do by night. I could see this guy at some nightclub bar with a queue of girls lined up to caress his rippling muscles – like I said, who knows?)
And I’m out in the sticks now, driving through some sleepy village that even has two names, like one had forgotten and another thought up – and imagine the village war between the farmers and the petrol pump attendant families over which name to use (out here they may still have a say – imagine us try to change the name of Bournemouth to Old Bastard or something).
And I gets to thinking, seeing some old dude bent over double with age, where I might be in 100 years time. Hmm? And I was thinking of something Rollins wrote which I’ll write ye down when I get home and maybe I’ll find a connection. Anyway, think about where you will be every year for the next 100 years okay – see what you come up with (go for it I say).
The last 2 S.T.E. gigs at the Joiners have really impressed me and I don’t just mean band/music-wise. Being a long-time friend of the S.T.E. Collective, I feel reasonably comfortable at the gigs and the Joiners where most have been in the last 4 years and I guess I know pretty well what to expect.
Over the time, one gig sticks out as being particularly good and that was seeing Green Day play around the time of Rich’s birthday. Green Day, as you probably well know, are good fun blokes and raised many a moshing smile that night, dragging Rich on-stage for a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ amongst other mad moments.
I got to meet and talk to Larry Livermore which was way cool and everyone there was smiling and talking to each other and having fun. There was a sense of achievement and a spirit of one-ness (Rob thinks he’s got the monopoly on taking hippy shit!). Fuck, you know what I mean, don’t you?
Anyway, I got that feeling again last week, while seeing Thirst/The Harries/Rhythm Collision. I was stuck most of the night behind the record stall but it gave me a great vantage point to look and watch everyone and get a good feel of the atmosphere. It was good to see many happy faces and excellent to see new ones (and Rocket From The Crypt t-shirts!) and girls too seem to be coming forward more and more into the gigs, which is great. Gigs can still seem intimidating sometimes.
Thirst played a good set, getting better all the time and always getting a reaction one way or another from the crowd! Both The Harries and Rhythm Collision play music that’s not really to my taste (I don’t like Green Day much either) but it’s got that foot-tapping happy tone to it, that makes you feel good inside.
Many people hung around afterwards and chatted to the bands and with friends and as I was talking to Rhythm Collision’s guitarist, it suddenly struck me that what’s going on here is bigger than all of us (though made up by us).
There I was talking to a complete stranger about my forthcoming trip to Oz and finding out we both have a mutual friend there. I’ve heard it said that hardcore is the second biggest underground organisation in the world (next to the Mafia!). Who knows if that’s true but it seemed cool to me that I have friends all around the world, who I’ve never spoken to, written to or even met yet. The main thing that draws us together being music (and sometimes politics).
The second gig – Thirst/Zimmer Frames/Bedlam Hour – proved even more so, the trust and respect that us punks give and take from each other. Bedlam Hour toured without any equipment (relying on being able to use other bands’ when they got to the gig) and organised their whole European tour themselves from names and addresses in ‘Book Your Own Fuckin’ Life’ magazine.
Here they were in Southampton, thousands of miles from home, welcomed into our friendly atmosphere. They were the most friendly, admirable people you could ever wish to meet.
The one thing that got the crowd going being a magnificent rendition of Minor Threat’s ‘In My Eyes’ sung by Queer Rob. From then on, everyone was convinced. I saw guys at the bar looking on, thinking ‘Who the hell is this band?’, who were now jumping up and down and sideways, with their pals.
Girls not sure about the huge bulldozer bass player with udders were now laughing along at the absurd fun everyone was having.
Note should be made of Queer Rob’s Art Deco dancing (too much Big Breakfast methinks!) to Thirst and The Zimmer Frames great sets.
These gigs were certainly events to be proud of and now let’s look forward to the next gig and all those to come in the future. Sharing our music, our friendship, proud in the knowledge we are part of something bigger and that we are making a difference.
What a sad affair yesterday’s entry was but now it is written the emotion has passed. If you’d like to know, writing things down helps you to sort things out, makes things clear – hell, you probably know all this already.
But now let me tell you about the sky. Oh sweet sky, sapphire desire. Last night I happen to glimpse the sky at what must’ve been a quintessential moment in time, just as Saturn went through Jupiter (or some such nonsense). I could see miles onto the horizon where the blue was hazy, light and white, like a faded blue, sunbleached by time. And up, slowly becoming substantial, deepening, a brief flurry of fluffy white and on and up til oh, so deep the colour, like eyes, big, deep pools of the vivescense (if there is no such word – imagine it, goddamn) and my breath was taken away. I looked and looked and loved and my attitude changed. I filled up on good feelings and daydreamt about Australia and blue and water and life. Soon these dreams will turn into reality – easy!
Well, besides these things I can tell you the following that destiny threw at me and I faced proud and strong (god, Shaun, you are dramatic). Here’s some tiny things I did!
Munched out at the Thai restaurant with both the women in my life, my sweetheart and my mum! Being the only customers, we were waited on hand and foot by the whole staff (could have been the whole family) and served up delicious delicacies, beers and dessert. But remember to speak slowly and in sign language or better still, learn their language. They were sweet and willing though.
Of course, there’s been fucking tons of football on and I’ve been watching as much as possible. Too much to tell you about here – buy the video!
Broni fell off her bike in the middle-of-the-road – luckily not the busy one but I watched in despair as she keeled over unable to put her foot down, her laces being wrapped ’round the pedal and so sweet, her baby crying face as she sat, dumped on her back, on the tarmac. A couple of bruises to show now. You know, she bruises so easily – I have to be very careful when I pick her up and turn her upside down.
I was thinking anyway, about us, and fuck, there’s magic between us. I think some of the more cynical of you out there might think we’re like soppy sloppy teenagers but I reckon you just haven’t come across this feeling before (and fuck I love this feeling, I just want to suck it all up, more more more). But you know, you’re all okay too. You can guess we’re both still madly, badly in love with each other. If that makes you sick, you make me sad. I still have faith in the human spirit. Some of my friends out there give me that faith.
Hell, went to see ‘The Chase’ too, with Henry Rollins playing some meathead cop (total fucking irony – who said Americans don’t understand irony!), with a soundtrack featuring NOFX, Bad Religion, Down by Law, Rancid and a ton more. You know it’s punk to go to the cinema, don’t you! Yes, it’s true – everything you do with your life is punk.
You know me, I probably did a million other things though now I’m not in such a fucking hurry. Taking it easy up until launch date – no stress for me and my baby. As always will keep you informed.
Ha ha! Yesterday’s entry was all I could manage and I even added the exclamation mark today!
The reason for those aches and pains was a long session of tennis with Snowy in which I came back to win the first set 6-4 from 3-0 down. Second set, I got trounced 6-0 and third set I finally won 9-7, two and a quarter hours later, amid beautiful evening sunshine and blowy wind.
The object really was to get some exercise so I guess that worked quite well though here I am now, two days later with sore muscles in places I never knew existed. I went to occupational therapy for my wrist the morning before playing tennis and the guy there looked in despair at me and my poor wrist when I mentioned playing tennis! He discharged me and said he could do no more for me!
Still – day after I visited a chiropractor who thinks all my wrist problems could be the result of a back problem affecting my right side upper body. So convinced was this guy that he could help me that I’ve opted for some treatment by this bone cruncher.
Each night me and my Broni have been too exhausted to even think – we work so fucking hard and have so many things to think about at the moment that we’re in danger of total mental collapse. Needless to say, little arguments arise out of our frustrated situation and it’s making September 27th beg to come sooner!
Last Friday I went to the Joiners to see Herb Garden, MTA and Frankenslag. I had a cool chat with Karl, Herb Garden’s singer, about Australia amongst other things. I seem to have this habit of bringing up the subject whoever I talk to – it’s interesting to get people’s reactions. Most are in favour – saying they’d like to go too – only one guy said it was bad and couldn’t understand why I want to leave such a good country! Yeah right! I couldn’t believe it either!
Me and Broni talked some today about our situation and we came up with half a plan for Australia. We hope (to be able to afford) that I can stay home and write, maybe do some part-time work while Broni works a well-paid job. Then, when inevitably, little babies come along, she can do her work privately and part-time and share our responsibilities to little Bubka and Quarrychase! I hope to make some quick financial gains to give me a confidence boost and to make it seem worthwhile. I know we’ll make it all work one way or another.
Well, here’s to a quiet weekend after last weekend’s oddness – went to Blandford to see Urban Strawberry Lunch bang some tubes and trash cans and then the Wizards of Twiddly play their brand of funked-up, pumped up jazz. All this in a marquee in a field – freezing cold – to an unreceptive audience – we videoed kids dancing their peculiar childish dances which made us laugh and wish to be kids. From here on something hit me emotionally and drained me of all my energy and enthusiasm. Like the low point of my cycle – the moon in the wrong place or some such and that blew the weekend, unfortunately.
Next morning when finally awake we dithered and cleaned and a letter came through the door from Australia House with more forms for us to fill. And we duly got stressed out a bit on Sunday when it came to filling them in.
News today was that Kurt Cobain shot himself dead and that’s been on my mind through the week. Shocking news and, strangely, having a personal effect on me. The first rocker of my generation to suicide out of life!
My new forms required a medical examination which I went for on Tuesday at some posh hospital, X-ray and all! £130 for half an hours work! It seems I’m closer to getting to Oz now though.
Wednesday saw us with Rob, trek golden highway to Wales to see our gods Sebadoh and Lou Barlow. A night spoiled by some dicks dancing uncontrollably but Sebadoh’s majesty shone through in the end. The late drive home saw me with only 3 1/2 hours sleep but worth it to see Broni’s face light up after talking briefly to Lou.
We’re both stressed this week with this new lot of forms and all the questions they bring up, like about our wedding plans etc. So much going on at the moment so little time to relax. Broni thinks I’ll never relax but I intend to take it easy for awhile in Oz. Want to get there soon now and bring her the promise of babies!!
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