Invisible Stranger

Invisible Stranger

Collecting Crises on Old Compton Street and Beyond

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Little Tinker

Currently clicking:
- bboyblues
- bitful
- blue witch
- diamondgeezer
- glitter for brains
- london calling
- naked blog
- troubled diva

Usually Playing:
- ute
- neil and chris
- peter and anna
- june
- kurt

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Sunday, April 13, 2003
Pleasant Valley Sunday
Um… Well... Errr, look, I mean, it’s a Sunday after all, innit, give us a break, like, well, y'know, Day of Rest and all that, I mean, like, I really dunno….

- Right. Pull yourself together. Put down that fourth pint of Stella. No. Now. Thank you. Let's look at the options, shall we? For starters: what about those "oh-just-a-couple-of-drinks" you had at the Stanley yesterday with Lord and Lady Macbeth? Then going back, five hours later, to theirs and finally meeting Pushkin after all this time? And then ending up at the French Bar?

Naaah. No-one would believe me. Apart from the Met, that is. Anyway, if I did write about that, then who would get to hear about me and the Dalek at Birmingham Airport ?

- Good point. But only a few thousand spotty Anoraks, and several traumatised children, would be interested in that anyway. I know what! You could be Really-Up-To-Date and discuss today's Observer e-mail interview with Matthew Branton, and his spot-on analysis of the state of British culture instead! Couldn't you?

Yeah. Guess so. Bit too arty though, isn't it? Especially for a Sunday. I know: maybe to wind up Bitful and the brick in their valiant efforts to give up the Killer Weed, I could talk about that night of the Full Moon when I bought a packet of Full-Strength Camels, sat down in Saint Katharine's with a voddie and coke, and tried to cultivate a serious smoking habit.

- Yeeees. Like the Linky-Linkiness of that, I have to say. My word, you are getting into the spirit of this old blogging thing, aren't you? Charming. So charming. Community and all that. But, in the end, we have to come back to Nicotine…A bit too Controversial, don't you think? Tell you what, why don't you write about those safety-pinned times you and Eric had in Mathew Street?

Possible. I'll have to ring up Pete and Ian and Jayne and a few others. See if they can remember what I've forgotten. But in the meantime, I could still talk about music, couldn't I? What about the new Sevara Nazarkhan album?

- Sorry, my darling, but haven't you just gone and told everyone the first band you ever saw live were the New Seekers?

OK. Point made. No-one would take me seriously… Hey! Here's an idea! Let's all be really brave and venture South-of-the-River, and catch the Dame Edna Experience at the Vauxhall! If I really behaved myself, I'd remember all about it in the morning and then I could write about that.

- Sorry, sweetheart. Already been done. (And, dare I say it, a tad better than you ever could.) Try and be a bit more original, will you?

OK. All right. Got it now. Just get this one. This is really going to knock their blogging socks off. That incident with Me, the Hairbrush, the Rent Boy and the Polish Punter. No? … Well, what about Me, the Changing Rooms and the Man with the Arsenal Tattoo? You mean. everyone's already heard about that one as well? … My Rectal Examination at Heathrow Airport? The Pesto Scenario on Bleeker Street? The Chanel Number Five Gambit on the 207 from Ealing?

Oh, sod it. You think of something for me to write about. I'm going to the pub.

(Yep. You've guessed it. Blog Block.)