it’s raining and raining and raining.
and i was just watching the don lett’s documentary on the history of punk rock.
it’s really good and comprehensive, and, of course, it makes me kind of painfully nostalgic.
the shots of joe strummer are the best.
alas, poor joe, we hardly knew you. or ye.
one of my fondest memories is of getting drunk with joe strummer in l.a in 2001 and dancing to bad hip-hop at 4 in the morning.
or visiting his glastonbury camp in 2000 when everyone was drinking some utterly awful homemade moonshine in the mud and sunshine.
it’s still raining.
pouring.
hour after hour.
which is great because, as you might know, the sound of rain on my skylights is one of the nicest things on the planet.
and waffles.
maybe i’ll have some waffles.
although i did have them for breakfast.
if you see a picture of me and i look chubby you can blame the waffles, foul temptresses that they are.
ok, i take that back. they may be temptresses, but they’re hardly foul.
they’re alive with perfection.
ok, not exactly ‘alive’ in the literal sense.
but ‘alive’ in that i love to eat them very much.
or ‘very much love to eat of them’.
but that sounds a bit elizabethan and i’m trying to wean myself off of elizabethan turns of phrase, as are we all.
speaking of elizabethan, isn’t it the queens birthday?
will prince charles be king soon?
i like the idea of a slightly kooky environmentalist/architecture-nut being the king of england. i wonder if buckingham palace will get a grey-water system and maybe a wind farm. that would be fantastic.
all hail bonny king charlie.
-moby
