So its the 11th of the 11th of the 11th eh? What does that mean? Is it some terrible sign that a happening of extreme disaster will occur, some believing the number 11 heralds a terrible event, for example 9/11 or worse, the closure of all the 7/11’s in the UK some years ago? Does it mean its Leonardo Di Caprio’s 36th birthday, proving that despite his baby face, he’s actually really old? Does it mean everyone on Twitter will make endless jokes about it being corduroy day or Spinal Tap day or something equally as rubbish? Does it mean its Armistice Day and that Tiernan will sleep through the 2 minute silence by accident, even though no one will ever know unless he blogs about it? So many possibilities, only so much time to sift through them all and/or give a shit (except about Armistice Day which is important).
Today does indeed have some significance of a certain sort of tragedy. For today, ladeeeez and gentle chaps, I have to go to Portsmouth. Yes, I know. Horror indeed, though mostly because it comes at the end of 3 days of sheer relaxation and generally sitting on my arse, and the energy required to get off it and trek to the South Coast is unbeknownst to none. These 3 days off have been the first since the three days off I had straight after Edinburgh and they have been amazing. I have eaten actual food that I’ve cooked and made with my bare hands (bear hands) and not got from a service station at stupid o’clock. I’ve slept a lot in my own bed and I’ve not walked or travelled very far at all. Essentially I’ve been a huge massive planet saving slob, and I have revelled in my Jabba The Hut type stationary attitude.
The downside of all of this is, that now I’ve slowed down, I’m finding it very hard to start up again. Much like a car battery, when I’m going I am very much like the energiser bunny, or a Pringles consumer, but as soon as my body realises I’ve stopped I’m like a big stupid stone lump of stupid lump. Today I need to drive for at least 2 and half hours then host a gig and all I really want to do is get back in my pyjamas and curl up in bed again. I’ve grown to get really reattached to my bed, and it turns out we really are best of chums. I can’t imagine tonight’s bed at the Holiday Inn will be anywhere near as cosy. Does anyone have any shock leads they could bring round? Odd that 11/11/11 is binary for yes yes yes yes yes yes when I am very much in a ‘no’ state of mind.
