Toot House, And In Tin.

Before I start, this album is amazing for walking home at night. That sounds kind of creepy. It is not meant in any creepy sense, I mean for walking back from the pub or from the train station, not from a sexually aggressive kidnapping or from rummaging around in the bins at your local old people's home. It just has such an amazing atmosphere. It makes me think of the episode of Tom And Jerry that's set in New York where Jerry dances on a table at a restaurant with a pepper pot.


Now on to more topical calender business....



So happy new year. It is a new year. My New Years Eve was as follows. Go buy beer. This is important. Pre-going out boozes, why wait til you go out, when you can start at home? So I did that. So by 522pm here is what I had on my person :-


17 Lucky Strike Blue(The colour, not filth) Cigarette.

8 can Heineken.

2 Bottle Stella(I paid for 2 bottles of Heineken, because I like the bottle, it is the littler stubby number that is used in successful American TV Series like the Wire etc, so I'm kinda swayed by the packaging, kinda like how I am really curious about that chinese takeaway food that comes in those little boxes that they have on tv and that, I know it is me being swayed by media based Americanisation and a slight romanticism of all things I like on TV, but hey I'm ok with it...what was I getting at? Oh yes, I paid for those bottles of Heineken, but they werent chilled so the nice man went to get cold ones and came back with Stella, I couldnt be bothered to correct him as he had theoretically done me a chilled favour, plus I guess Stella has some romanticism, spousal abuse is pretty en vogue right now).

1 Eighth Weed that I found in room, plus all necessary accutriments to smoke it.


I also had roughly 5 different things I could spend the final moments of 2009 doing. This all in all would suggest that I was going to have some variety of good time. This would be a wildly incorrect assumption you fucking idiot. What actually happened would make for a suitably titled documentary on Channel 5, "When Naps Turn in to Full Blown Sleep". I dont know, maybe it already is one. So I woke up at 1116pm, too late to do anything. Oops. The victuals I had gathered, were redundant, for no matter what amount of booze I consumed, fags smoked, weed injected, I doubt I would stumble across time travel. But this is fine, it is just a night out. I watched "In the Loop" and drank 90% of the beer I bought. So thats nice. I could wallow in spending new years eve alone, I could project this preconceived social low upon the rest of my existance, I could wander to North Camp train station, part the gates that descend when a train approaches, smile and embrace the oncoming train, releasing my soul to drift towards the heavens, to lollop about on the breeze like a feather caught in the wind, but I wont do that, I'll probably just shrug, tell myself "that was a bit shit, but you were pretty tired" and then lend my Dad the DVD because I reckon he'd quite enjoy it.

Do I have anything else to say, probably not.

Matt Boyle.


x!