Okay, children of the revelation – no entries for five lots of 24. Here’s why.
Night of the 15th, me and Broni watched the film The Subterraneans – based on the Kerouac novel. In which George Peppard (very fucking young and non cigar chewing) plays the writer and spiels his ‘time’ spiel i.e. “there’s not enough time to watch every football match, kiss every girl, talk to everyone, but I must keep trying” and the mad girl tells him “You writers – you spend so much time writing about things you’ve done at the expense of things you could be doing and trying to write it down oh so right!” This crushed me! Till now anyway.
John-boy lost his voice on Wednesday, to which gave us all great delight in ribbing him as he is normally 1 million words a minute.
And so, The World Cup did start on Friday, much to Broni’s bemusement but we watched first match at Kerry’s (Germany one, Bolivia nil – the Germans are the most boring team to watch and Bolivia did give them a run for awhile). I stayed up to watch Spain versus South Korea and at 2.20am, with 6 minutes to go, decided to call it a night, with Spain two goals up, only to find out next day South Korea scored two cracking goals in six minutes to level it! Spain are also very dull and South Korea played beautiful passing football.
With a barbecue and TV planted outdoors we watched Ireland triumphantly beat Italy one nil and last night (Sunday), Norway vs Mexico in the same group (also one nil). Stayed up for the first half of Cameroon vs Sweden, which was a cracker of a match (One one, half time) Don’t know who won yet!
Broni doesn’t quite share my enthusiasm so I’ve been letting her get some sleep in the full of our single bed and last night I came to bed excited about wedding speeches. And, of course, I must tell you that we’ve ordered some designer wedding rings from a jeweller in Salisbury – the only thing I think I’ll get on my finger – slightly unusual, well, very unusual for wedding bands, mixed coloured golds and non-symmetric. Much nicer then the tack of yer standard high street affairs.
So I dreamt about Lou Barlow instead of Henry Rollins, and sure, I introduced him to my mum! Woke up to the lovely cooing face of my sweetheart. Life is good, life is scary, life is fun, life is love.
(Later) Here I sit, in the summer swelter, thirsty and starved, contemplating my situation. And oh, life is just a series of appointments but I have the energy and enthusiasm to meet every deadline I may have made from myself. Fucking hell, lots of people can’t even get out of their chairs to turn the TV off (I’m no smarter or dumber than them) – it’s just about doing it. And now I know I can deal with this big stress a-coming, just a series of appointments I’ve made, big ones, little ones, it is true, size is not important. These paths I travel are destiny – they are waiting for me to seek them out. I accept the challenge.
1994ever 