Bonk

I was late to the rehearsal studio, not that it mattered much because only Max was there. About a dozen players, but only me and the director turn up to a rehearsal 4 days before the performance. This may not bode well.

Still, we got some practicing done. I'm not at all used to 'projecting' into an auditorium, but Max says he's happy with my voice and delivery. Apparantly I have churchillian intonations!

I have a copy of the cut-down play to familliarise myself with - and a hopefully better populated read through tomorrow (today).
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Dinner at 1900 with Simon M, who is supposed to be playing the Prosecution, but has neither the time nor the inclination to come to the read-through.

He cooked us a scrumptious roast duck in cherry sauce with stuffing and vegetables. Followed by a black forest gateau allegedly large enough for 12 servings - we had a third each so I don't want to think about my cholesterol.

While cooking, we indulged our prurient passion for weird and cranky internet sites. One should not mock the afflicted, but I felt compelled to leave the following comment on this blog:

Eight Tons of Geese said...

You're a loon. A fruitcake, bonkers, nuts, insane in the brain, two sandwiches short of a picnic, a total and utter spongemonkey, a long weekend in a purple mineshaft, the chocolate paintbrush and gorbelling feltchblanket of Satan.

You, old girl, are a bit mad.

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Today's lyrics are from around 2000. I described it at the time as a simple song about addiction to pornography. The words and music were written and recorded in a single afternoon - part of an experiment in making tracks from start to finish as quickly as possible.

The story behind the song is that I was living on my own, with a steady job, getting fit at the gym and I was off the anti-depressants. Sounds pretty good.

I had discovered a much more effective way to cheer myself up than paroxetine hydeochloride - cruising for sex in the park. I also found that working out at the gym sent my libido through the ceiling, so in all I was having quite a lot of sex.

I'm not sure it's true to say I became dependant on it, but it gave me a sense of being in control of my life for the first time at age 28. Some people indulged in retail therapy; I had sex with unknown men in the bushes at night. I wrote a song about it, called 'Midnight'.

Then one night I met a man and my first thought wasn't "I want to do sex with him" - it was "I would like to cook this man breakfast". Maybe it was my romantic soul resurfacing. Well, he took me home, we did sex, slept, and I did indeed cook him a full english breakfast in the morning.

Then we talked for hours about music, politics, past relationships and other stuff. Niether was looking for a relationship, or even regular sex - we just enjoyed the company. As I was leaving, he gave me a gift - six VHS porn tapes that he didn't want anymore.

So, the song isn't exactly autobiographical, but was 'inspired by events'.

Video Sex Bomb

Video sex bomb
In my eyes all night long
Perfect lover just for me
On my mind, on my TV
Hit 'play' and we're together
Flesh, denim and leather
Pleasure shades into pain
Rewind
And come again

There's no good recording, but at some point I'd like to make one.