Casual intercourse.

Nothing like what you're thinking, you salacious creature, you.

I think I've figured out what's wrong. In wanting each entry to be a full fledged article on its own, I turn it into work. And no one likes work. It's being drilled and drilled into me that good copy is read and re-read, written and re-written, at work.

But it's slowly dawning upon me that it needs to be done only when one has criteria to satisfy. It's great being an Editor, no matter where you are. You get to tell everyone to piss off, with their writing and your own writing has automatic sanction.

It's not really the reason why I started this thing, though. Sure, I want to become a better writer, but by my own standards. Which are strange and lurid and obscure and Mostly Harmless.

Besides, no one reads the shit, anyway. Not you, ma'am. I appreciate every bit of you. Well, except the bits I am by default exempted from appreciating. But we have an understanding, I believe.

Those of you who love your job and enjoy every bit of it, don't tell me about it. Contrary to popular belief, I am a violent person. So fuck you, Jason Han.

In a good way. You lucky bastard, you.

But, yes. Music.

Smooth change of subjects there, I know.

I have some appreciation of music. Not in the way that tends to be, these days. People tend to latch on to some imaginary classification of music and declare all other people to be baby-eating, grandma-raping neo-nazis.

Three hypenated word in quick succession. Deal with that, weak mortal brain.

Sorry, bit drunk.

You have an inkling of what I'm talking about, though. Personally, I've got a colleague who's -into- Placebo, and that sort of music. Where, you know, the lead singer puts on make-up and shit and sings in octaves higher than the norm and it's all so cool.

Bit revealing, when the person didn't know what the word Placebo meant in the first place.

"Something to do with drugs, right?"

Because we all know drugs are so cool.

I'm more, eclectic, shall we say. Hip-hop, rock, trance, opera - it's all the same to me. If I like, I like. Have got a better appreciation of trance lately, walking to work with music. Trance is the sort of thing you can lose yourself in, no matter what state you're in. And it's got a nasty beat to keep pace with.

No, really nasty. Try it sometime. Dancing to it is great, but walking. Woo.

Not that it's improved my dancing. Still dance like epileptic monkey.


This entry was brought to your courtesy of Sarah Brightman playing while I was taking a dump. She is painfully brilliant, vocally. The notes she can hit, gods.

Inevitably, as a warm blooded male, the thought comes to mind as to what she sounds like in bed.



"Oh yes...yes...

YEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!"


"...Sarah darling, don't get me wrong. I love you. But that's the seventh set of really expensive crystalware disintegrated, this week. I think we need to talk."



Take that, ye demons of professional standards.