New Years day 1

For gentlemen of a each generation, there's a certain song. If you're younger than me, have a tendency to wear T-shirts that say "grease monkey", and talk for hours about how it's important not to be camp in Yorkshire, lest someone find you're a follower of the chutney ferret and kick the crap out of you, then it's probably "Reach" by S Clutz Seven. For me, it's the CanCan by Bad Manners. Watered down nowadays of course. You'd not get away with the leg kicking carnage we used to inflict in school to that song. You'd loose teeth. Anyway; found myself on new years eve in a shite club, with shite beer that played shite music. I've found a note to myself at midnight seventeen that they'd just played CanCan, I'd done what needed to be done and I could no longer breathe. Hey ho. No biggie. Anyway, we're clearly excellent chaps here. We've got three of us going out to play; two lads and one lass. The boys want to do ale pubs, Lass want's to do shite clubs. We relent 'coz we're nice. Gawd. Shite clubs on new years eve it is. Turns out the Dove is closed for a private party anyway. We wander in; we clock an awful lot of scummy people looking awfully tense. Great. Clearly going to be a humdinger. Folks, for tourist information purposes, Quilts nightclub in Ipswich sucks dead donkey's cock. I like to help out where I can, you see.

Anyway, we came, we saw, we drank bad beer, she enjoyed herself, we gave up. Scumbags getting fighty in the queue for the burger van. What is it with these people? What has happened to this place? Not my town anymore, this place. Gave up on the queue for the taxi's so wandered back here in the rain.

Anyway, frankly I was feeling rather neglected; the phone network had collapsed, couldn't sleep, brain was fizzing with energy that I couldn't use because I knew that beer would be running the decision making and paranoia maintainence process. So I went up and wrote the first draft of this rubbish while my drinking buddies crashed out downstairs and snored, energy expended. Gave it up as a bad job and went to bed with a book.

Up with the sun. Feeling better. Considering a supplies run before I head back up north; I've totally run stocks dry up there and I'm working at six tomorrow morning. Really only need milk, but they've got a special on sausage meat at the Co-op, so I might bag a bunch for my freezer, pie making for the use of. Hey, you really wanted to know that didn't you. That's epoch shaking literature that's coming out of here today. Shadey's shopping list. One day, that'll mean something to a historian that will, the domestic habits of the ordinary British bloke in 2007. Yeah, me. Ordinary. Yeah, right. OK, the mad as a box of frogs British bloke in 2007. That better?