Just stumbled across this rather depressing paragraph I wrote a year or so ago. I’m glad my life is improving though haven’t played a gig in a while: Watching someone in the opposite block of flats take her bras down from the window rail. When she leans her full bosom presses on the glass through her ‘I love HK’ tshirt. What a cock tease. Because I broke my blinds in a rage once when I couldn’t get a signal on the TV they are always up so I see you all there just as the guy on the top floor seems to watch me lying in bed sometimes. Inner City pressure. Going to go out and get a pizza now for my hangover. I wonder if the youths who smoke weed at the bottom of the stairwell will mock me due to the silly clothes I wear again. They’re ok. I need a poo. Last night I bumped into my friends Poor Old Dogs so I thought I’d mention I’m playing a gig with them in Stroud next weekend Saturday 9th. Last night the police called me a loser. Tonight I work. Tomorrow I get wonky in London town.