7:40 a.m., Amyand Park Road, walking alongside the perimeter of St. Margarets Station. Ahead of me, a drab suited office type, a black flecked, charcoal grey rucksack suspended halfway down his back, but looking as if it is an extension of him, not an addendum, weighing him down like a cooled lump of magma, a rocky outcrop. I draw closer, passing through the exotic haze emanating from him, trying to clock his profile as I draw level - it's drooping, baggy, lugubrious, not sharp, hipster or cool. I see it then, pincered between thumb and forefinger,tucked back into the cup of his closed palm, concealed and vaguely shifty, not carefree but sheltering from the wind - a 3 cm. reefer.
Must be all the pressure.
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he probably ran out of matches mate!! couldn't let it go out? It's a bugger trying to light it back up in public ain't it bob?
ReplyDeletesounds like a haunted (between two brackets) kind of soul.
ReplyDeleteKids are different today.
ReplyDelete"It's a bugger trying to light it back up in public ain't it bob?"
ReplyDeleteAs an "E" addict, I wouldn't really know. Thery're strong enough as it is without lighting the buggers Jifster....
Yes, he said something about needing something to steady his nerves before engaging the MRI scanner - and did I not realise that Nuclear Medicine was the most stressful of the modern health professions?? now I come to think of it....
"Kids are different today."
ReplyDeleteI hear every mother say...
[let's see if we can get the whole lyric up.....]
Wasn't it "The kids are alright"?
ReplyDelete"they just don't appreciate that you get tired..."
ReplyDeletesomething about a steak, can't remember the rest. A rather mean song, I can't help thinking.
THIS IS A PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT: After much thought, Mr Swipe has decided to do a 'Hippy themed' podcast, he might have to grow his hair a bit longer first though?....great idea Bob, DO IT!!
ReplyDelete"...he might have to grow his hair a bit longer first though?...."
ReplyDeleteAs I'm completely bald JDumpster, that would probably be a good idea....
You will be responsible for "medicining" me, naturally...
I think it's....
ReplyDelete"So she buys a frozen cake and she buys some frozen steaks.." Billster.
A great line - the alienating blandness of modern consumer capitalism coalescing with the Mother's drug-induced numbness in the icy frozen food metaphor...It is a nasty song, unsympathetic little song, but then they were turned into pariahs a bit by the moral majority, so I suppose yopu can see why they'd lash out occasionally.
He could do a great lyric when he put his mind to it could old Nagger Jagger.
Back Street Girl (Between the Buttons) is great.
Doncha Bother Me No More from Aftermath has the lovely, 60s encapsulating line,
"All the clubs and the bars and the little red cars/Trying to get high but not know ing why...."
hair hormone growth kit on stand by! Oh, plus stims??
ReplyDeleteApparently if you rub Baby Bio (liquid plant food) into your ailing locks/balding pate - it stimulates hair growth. I remember seeing it on Nationwide around 1976 - some old git called Fred who grew giant tomatoes discovered it and wrote in. I think he was interviewed by the old charm-sampler himself Frank 'mine's a g' Bough. Bless. Do you remember the other one - Bernard thingy actually ate a spider sandwich - live! Jesus H - such entertainment!
ReplyDeleteimagine that, a head full of tomato plant.
ReplyDeleteAs a licensed dispenser of 'Mother's Little Helpers' I bloody love that song and often hum it as I'm dispensing them. No-one's got the reference yet though
ReplyDeleteBernard Falk - that's it.
ReplyDeleteHowesy - you're going all left field again.
Realdoc - that's fabulous.
Goodness - I've taken over the responsibility of Bob's blog without meaning to. He's up the arse(nal) tonight so I'm sure he won't mind a washed up old ex-Stones groupie like me standing in for him.
I don't want to be pedantic, but what the hell...
ReplyDeleteMRI or Magnetic Resonance Imaging is not Nuclear Medicine. Instead of using good old traditional radiation, it is based on magnetic fields and radio waves. I mean how is that going to work? It'll never catch on.
Radiation is our Friend.
As any fule kno.
what! Howesy going left field again? he keeps doing that to me!!
ReplyDeleteOh and Bob, the shows gotta open with "something in the air" you know the one 'Thunderclap newman' *right on*
ReplyDeleteJif - have a story about that song - shall I e mail it to you and then you can talk about it on your pod?
ReplyDeleteAs any fule kno (he's ace that Stray Photon)
ReplyDeleteAs I am not blogging...here is a poem thingy:
*Ah, chillum.*
Yes..I know...I've got writer's block. It isn't my best.
We've had microdots, spliffs and tomato plants in recent topics. What about banana skins?
ReplyDeleteOoops - I've just slipped!
ReplyDeleteHmph.
ReplyDeleteI come round here to talk about spliffs, and you're all gabbing on about some song I don't know.
*googles*
Ah, that'll be where Martgaret Atwood ripped off her 'Bring Back Mom: An Invocation' from. You learn something new...
Anyhow.
The singer* from Alabama 3 had a spliff or two on stage last night.
*would
You talking 'bout 'The Chosen One', Spinny?
ReplyDeletecrikey! the comments section of this particular entry have really taken off haven't they? must be high??? *Bob* what you up to?????????
ReplyDeleteI feel like I've had a Camberwell Carrot reading all this lot....
ReplyDeleteKeep it going - I've got a bad shoulder and so I'm not allowed to type. Besides, it seems like more fun without me....
ReplyDeleteSee y'all soon,
Bobster
That'll be from lugging that bloody calliper around Bob. Blasted thing!
ReplyDeleteWell I tried this skunk thing, got dragged kicking and screaming out of left field (HORRORS) and spent some time right of centre til come down. Had the munchies for 12-13 hours and am now happily sober and back in the field known comfortingly as left as i type. Phew!
ReplyDelete"I've got a bad shoulder and so I'm not allowed to type" crumbs! reefers must be getting heavier? he he he...
ReplyDeleteGet well soon, Bob.
ReplyDeleteNearly three days without a post.
ReplyDeleteGod, you don't reckon he's gone and done a Richey Edwards?
Bob, are you out there???
"God, you don't reckon he's gone and done a Richey Edwards?"
ReplyDeleteSad but true Spinster - I have indeed gone and become a Welsh cunt....as Sting once warbled "s'the price of fame..."
But then, what does *he* know??