beards/the longest day of all time   Leave a comment

Most of this was written about a week ago:

Been trying to grow a beard over the last couple of weeks. Realized that if I ever wanted to have one without it being grey I’d have to get on with it, even if it is stupidly sparse in a follicle sense. Actually the chin and upper lip is sparse, the cheeks are deserted. Tried to convince myself that it was a conceptual beard to protest about the war (or whatever) and promote UM, but its just too crap. The other day I saw a student type with a beard (a reasonably fine one) and it was obvious he’d grown it for wacky style reasons and he just looked like a cunt, or how science teachers used to look in the 80s, so maybe the whole project is flawed. See how it goes I guess, but it’s already starting to feel like I’ve accidentally got something on my face. I have the support of my wife, however, even if she privately detests all beards

Last Friday was officially the longest day of all time. Unluckily for me I happened to be working and have a hangover. Actually it was one of those hangovers that are about four parts alcohol to six parts lack of sleep, and the hands on the clock seemed to be as tired as I was. When I’d finally mopped the floor I felt like a released hostage. Unbelievably an evening of socialising and dancing had been scheduled, so I immediately began drinking heavily in order to minimise the discomforting effects of reality. I had expected Café Afrika to be fairly low-key, as almost all nights out in Cambridge are a fucking disaster, if we’re honest with ourselves. People don’t come to anything worth going to and that’s that as far as I can tell. I used to hate this defeatist attitude that blames the punters and not the show but now I’ve gone over to the other side. I think I have…
Anyway, it was a great night, as long as you didn’t get too hung-up about how unhip it was, what with all the little kids all over the show and lots of ungroovy whiteperson dancing by the 40+ers. Bit too much spingly guitar music as beloved by French people, and not enough dirtydown township shit or Fela-funk, but fuckit. The main thing was though, it was WELL ATENDED! Can you imagine? And with a GOOD ATMOSPHERE. Unbelievable, as EMF once recoiled.

Yesterday’s nutritional input:

Danish pastry
Fizzy passion fruit drink
Bagel with bacon
Scones and jam
2/3rds can of Guinness
1 bottle white wine
Bowl of cereal

This is pretty much what they gave the Allied POWs in the war. It’s not good, is it?

Today’s menu so far has been similarly free of a balanced range of food-groups, consisting of stale cheese and stale crackers.

Posted November 8, 2002 by peteum2013 in Uncategorized

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