Fork in Hell

Winter's going away for a while, but it's going to make sure you remember it before it does.

All week I've been looking at the weather forecast, hoping that today at least offers sunshine, even if its going to be bitterly cold. Sadly, the only thing on the horizon is bags more snow before the inevitable British weather juxtaposition of freezing cold followed by unseasonably mild. I mean, if there was ever a recipe for someone catching something it's when the weather does that. The lucky thing is it isn't due to hit this part of the country until after dark and hopefully we will have been to the wedding, enjoyed ourselves, seen lots of people (especially relatives) and left before the weather takes a turn for the worse. I know we only have 20 miles to travel, but we have these dogs and the A428 is notorious for being shit and essentially I'm just mithering...

Who needs the weather to fuck me up. I can do that just by getting off the toilet. My belief that if there is actually a God he has a real hate on for me hasn't subsided, in fact, if anything it has got worse. Not only am I blessed with a doctor who thinks I'm hilarious, but I can't even use the toilet without something going wrong...

My back went. Pretty much badly, although I'm sure it isn't a slipped disc. Fortunately, I have mucho fuck off painkillers and a barrage of other, lesser, drugs, that should see me get through this day. I'm also going in my car, which, of course, was bought with my back in mind. I haven't got a corset, I could probably do with one! 90 minutes after the painful removal of myself from the pan, the intensity has passed and I'm thinking that by lunchtime I might even be able to walk without looking like I've shit myself.

Oh happy day...

"Don't you ever worry about what people might think?" This was something asked of me the other day about this blog. My answer was simple. If I did I wouldn't write about it. I mean, I'm a curmudgeonly old hypochondriac who likes wibbling on about himself; if I cared what others thought I'd possibly temper it a bit. Besides, the constant readers who I actually see - the Shoesville Collective - have always taken the piss out of me in one way or another, so while they're guffawing away like leaky clunges at my misfortune two things are happening: 1) they're leaving some other poor schmuck alone and 2) I'm getting all the attention. Me. [Waves as frantically at you as he can without hurting his back any more while being all too aware that he is talking about himself in the 3rd person].

I have just found some morphine... (Yes, it's that bad).

Effercio et Ineptias

• I now don't have to look it up/copy and paste it; I know it off by heart.
• The wife was slightly surprised that I'm up to R in my AtoZ odyssey and I suppose it suggests that I either haven't got that many CDs or I'm cheating. We have CDs all over this house. There are three independent areas in the lounge, plus as many again in my office. These are divided, generally, by several things. Downstairs has all the bought, proper, CDs, plus CDs that a) the wife is more likely to play and b) just randomly there. Upstairs is mainly things I've downloaded and haven't bought as a result. There are (or were) about 1000 of these and this was the initial target - go through these like a proper dose of salts and trim. Of the 1000 (ish) CDs up here, about 25% of them are CDs of vinyl I possess; 25% are albums I play regularly - so these two categories tend to be skipped (unless I haven't played something for a long time and then I would indulge in a spot of nostalgia). Of the 50% left, 25% have never been played and the other 25% have been played, but probably once, maybe twice. It has been this group that I have targeted and as a result I have parted company with between 100 and 200 CDs (I will have a final tally before I give them all to CJT). Once I have done this, I am going to do the same downstairs, exempting anything that the wife plays (grunge, metal, wailing rockers, Bauhaus, etc). I expect there will be at least another 200 CDs and some shifting around (because I'm convinced there's albums downstairs that I'd play more often if I remembered they existed) to be done. I bet you all feel like you can die at peace with the world now, don't you?
• I like Polish rock band Riverside; I just can't help feeling that they have a neo-Nazi following back in their homeland because every video I've seen of them live have skinhead and wankers throwing themselves around in them and frankly this band has never been like that - musically. But, saying that, when me and Roger saw Amplifier at the Waterlogged Trees Festival a few years back, I was astounded by the amount of young twats fucking about while Amp were on stage, all professing to be fans of the music...
• The (dead) Old Man's house is being viewed as I type. I swear to god the young estate agent who has turned up to show the couple around is so skinny she'd snap if a crane fly landed on her.
• Must go and put a suit on...