Archive for January 2002

boombox interest continues/a large dead rat   Leave a comment

Just received the following email:

do you know where I can get a Sharp GF-777z Radio?

I noticed that you have one in your equipment list and I wondered if you might know where another one was.


Last night I dreamt I was in a burning tower block with members of Depeche Mode. Alan Wilder’s girlfriend looked like a cross between Jenna Jameson and the young lady that used to play Jane in Neighbours (80’s, obviously). We talked about Smash Hits.

Woke up at 9:52, due to meet Sam and Syd at the doctors at 10:00 to get his little lungs listened to once again. All rumple-faced, I beat them to it, and tried not to breathe too hard on the doctor.

As if to justify media speculation that we are enduring another winter of discontent here in the UK there is a large dead rat lying in the gutter across the street.

Posted January 14, 2002 by peteum2013 in Uncategorized

I dream of Worthing   Leave a comment

Dreamt we were driving around Worthing. I was pointing out the ugliness of the area to my companions. Then we drove down a slope to a small nasty beach. Two men were hanging out by a semi-derelict fisherman’s shack. One was eating a beef-burger. There was lots of rubbish and tat piled up in old dirty caravans. Suddenly I was called upon to help one of the men teach some boy-scouts in the fisherman’s shack.

Posted January 8, 2002 by peteum2013 in Uncategorized

T'is the first day of the new year, or was.   Leave a comment

New Years Eve at The Portland. Sitting in the loo staring at an unusual piece of graffiti on the door:


DJ-ed to various combinations of a few and nobody. Was pestered variously for:
Howard Jones
The Cure
Garage or drum ‘n’ bass or Mantronix (I played “Who Is It” and matey didn’t know what it was and came back and hassled me for “Mantronix”)

Good fun though, especially Billy Idol.

Hangover almost beautiful the next day. I’m sure I always think better with a hangover. Typical hangover things like the back door of Sam’s had frozen shut, necessitating vigorous kicks in bare feet (whilst baby screams). Also the living room door at No.8 had mysteriously got fucked (some kind of loss of braking power on the hydraulic automatic shutter thingy – you may know what I’m on about) so that the door crashed shut like the end of all time and the fragmentation of all space etc. Did it about seven or eight times, swearing repeatedly at the gods of automatic hydraulic door shut thingies, but mainly at myself.

Then went for a heroic walk with Syd. Wonderful frosty sunny day. On Parker’s Piece saw a young girl of about 12 or 13 thirteen running with a puppy. Sun blaring across the snow. Felt ill and happy and mad.

Horrendous fascist world where every pub was shut though. I had an idea to get myself a bloody Mary, and ended up walking all the way through town on a juiceless quest, groaning to myself in little bouts of insanity. Started to get hungry in that manic way that you do when you need large lumps of goodness to counteract previous evils. Ended up wandering round the co-op salivating at the shelves, and bought about three separate meals because I was so hungry I couldn’t make a decision. Got home and embarked on a 12-step recovery programme involving:

Bloody Mary
Pancakes (savoury and sweet)
A bath
Sexual activity
Roast dinner
Red wine

Sort of worked.

Hey! While I was buying pancake stuff in one of the Asian supermarkets on Mill Rd (El Amin?) I suddenly hear “Staff Announcement” over the Tannoy:
“Staff Announcement. Would George Bush please come to the office.” I quickly shot a look at the two members of staff in sight, who were impassively going about their business as though they had not heard. Then I looked at a customer to check for signs of smirking. No reaction whatsoever. Had I gone properly mad? Even now it seems more probable than any other explanation. I heard it loud and clear, I swear.

Posted January 3, 2002 by peteum2013 in Uncategorized