bichoose (bichoose) wrote,
bichoose
bichoose

Wednesday 10th October 2007.

I am in a spiffy mood,almost scary,maybe simply Autumn leaves crushed withered laying down a blanket for young children to kick through with shiny new school shoes,mothers to curse in pushed prams,Prams you need " O " levels to fold..i passed a few on the walk home today,there design compares with the space shuttle..a young lad in front of me had on a back pack...emblazoned in big figures was the year 1972..i tried to cast my mind back,who won the cup final..who was number one in the hit parade..was i still a virgin.Was it the year my father returned back from the pub with a bottle of Strongbow Cider,instead of lemonade,a bag of crisps in the other hand.Do you fancy a change..wow i thought..the room began to spin,i closed my eyes the room span faster wowo i thought fabulous,until i rushed for the sink to count the green goblins pouring forth.The green goblins do not come any more,the room does not spin,my legs simply say fuck off..go to sleep you daft bat and fuck yer spinning room that was your youth.I miss my father perhaps i should send him a postcard..fuck his newish wife...
There is beer in the fridge..a danish brew called FAXE..a soldier serving in Germany brought it to my attention..with the quote " lets get faxed on fax " typical english squaddie....but you just gotta luv'em for finding hidden gems of ale...the mood is not on me though..the female side is kicking in Autumn is spiffy..i have a soft spot for modern Japanese/Chinese/Korean pop artists of the female source..each time i pass through Singapore i trawl the record shops..looking in the bargain basement buckets,if the girl on the cover is pretty i pick it up..the looks, the stares,the snigger's brace with one or two smile hello's " can i help you sir ", gosh me a sir..eerr "no thanks i'm just looking " and err can i fit you in my back pack..no no that's just a silent thought.As i slip half a dozen on the counter and rush out as if i have just bought a stack of porn.In all the CD'S i have picked up,only one or two have been a let down and for a few coppers such is life.The Eastern female voice has this burrowing into yer head mode,a sort of softness long lost in the past,not a word do i understand,i can even sit here and scribble away with half an ear striding down memory lane,the champagne super nova's whistle on the wind the milky way climbs high, a star burst in a crescent moon blistering before the birth of a new day.The music gives me strength to tell the Proddy-dog work ethic to fuck off for a few hours...Sigh..
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