widg‧et /ˈwɪdʒɪt/ [wij-it] -noun: Pointless ramblings from the New Forest. Obviously complete & utter Rubbish. Why must I contibute to all this endless talk about me? My self-indulgent knees, spilling themselves all over the internet. Obviously i am Jon and his hair, I AM HIM!

Monday, January 07, 2008

Jazzin' For Brown Cords

Forgetting to avoid shooting the messenger, we scoop the rest of the postman off the doorstep and pop him straight into the industrial rat composter before we allow the news to soak through. The verdict is in: we have but three months to vacate the cold & crumbly innards of the place we have come to call Stephen.

Cue much wailing & gnashing of landlords as we gather up all of our hatred and as much negative energy as we can muster, channelling it all into the warming bosom of oblivion that is the oncoming birth of Brown.

"The Spider, naturally, steals the show."

This is as much as I can recall of the evening's heaving festivities; so, with our memories heavily bandaged, we retire to what may well be one of the last full volume Splishy-Splashies ever, in order to drown our joys in Bowie & vodka.

The next morning, whilst the saner among us adopt the recovery position, our brand new home-owner has already managed to kill a prospective neighbour. I was a witness to the carnage, M'Lud. Just a couple of days before, on a quick reconnaissance mission around the new Hockobode, the aforementioned neighbour, a local, raging alcoholic, had demanded entrance without the proper documentation or security pass. He burst in, demanding to talk to a superior officer about who was causing the inaudible tiptoeing & gentle padding noises emanating from his ceiling for all of twenty seconds. I began to internally hum the theme tune to 'Neighbours (Everybody Needs Good)', as the rant continued. He slurred outrageously, suggesting that it was the new boys job to soundproof the entire block of flats.

"Cock" I thought to myself, as I usually do in times such as this.

Or, indeed, most of the time. It is normally the first thought that comes into my head (boom boom). But do not despair, insensitive reader, he redeemed himself soon afterwards when an aneurysm popped in his brain, presumably brought on by the oppressive whispering & long bouts of ear-splitting silence. Happy days.

Currently listening: Tallulah by The Go-Betweens


Post a Comment

<< Home