It was a lovely day today - clear, bright and warm, and I had most of it alone to myself. So it only seems appropriate that, instead of going out in the sun, I spent most of the daylight hours in a coalhole.

Of 4 songs, 3 are more-or-less recorded, with 4 or 5 complete takes each that I can edit together, or use as multipart harmonies.
The night was spent at a Respect fundraiser, eating vast amounts of buffet food and watching The Motorcycle Diaries - a 2 hour film in Spanish about the youth of Che Guevara.

I'm always at these film showings, not because I'm a great film buff, but because I'm the only one with a spare DVD player and the esoteric knowledge of how to plug in SCART cables.

I got really bad indigestion but one good thing came out of the night - I've got a gig on June 20th. Under the banner of Love Music, Hate Racism, there's a dozen bands playing 20 minute sets. And for once I won't be the only one without a band onstage - there's an acoustic folk act (man and guitar) and a rapper with a beatbox.

Oh, and a female friend told me she's discovered that her boyfriend has something in common with her previous boyfriend. They both like other men. I already knew about the previous boyfriend, because he cheated on her with me after she cheated on him with the man who succeeded him. I trust that's all clear. Seeing as she's bisexual too, things could get complicated.
Recent site trackings to my blog:

Jannx Journal (New York)
An everyday journal of the misadventures of a man in New York, New York. He's in his 30s, wants to be a teacher, and is trying to lose weight - just like me! He also speaks Japanese, which...isn't like me. I know how to say "The pencil is on the table", and that's it.

Craig Photography
A gregarious and philosophical photographer.

Another photographer, this time with a urban documentary theme. Rather Good, I think.

2 trombones and a crossbow
Have you ever had one of those conversations where you seem permanantly at cross purposes? Where you can understand each sentence, but you can't fathom why it's being uttered, or what relavence it has to what you last said. And you find yourself wondering, is this person schitzophrenic? Have they completely misunderstood me, or is there some vital point I'm missing? This blog is like one of those conversations.

An MSN search for "Ballshaving".

A Blogger search for "Priest Abuse".
This is a blog I surfed to: Kerhe's Neverwhere. If you thought the poetry of a few days ago was pretty bad, this stuff is just awesomely dreadful. In my own, purely personal and untrained opinion, of course.

The Wishing Well

Look for me deep inside the wishing well
Look for a coin, bright as hell
Look for my dead body
Look for me, at last, free

The well is deep, ancient, dark
The well is all that I've got
Counting worthless coins
And all the scars they caused

Throw your coin, speak your wish
Staying, blind to my pain
Beside the wishing well
But I won't find any peace at all
Unless someone wishes ME well

I have no plans to make the awful poetry corner a regular feature.

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