I thought that by now we’d be in Liddypool & worrying about what movie we’d be watching tonight. Nope! Stupid car died (dunno how many of y’all read about this) so ALL the finances had to be rearranged for that. >:(
Anyway, it’s becoming obvious that only way to go right now is West Texas (the waiting list for Americans trying to obtain British citizenship is well over a year right now anyway). Sorry if anyone’s disappointed… trust me when I say no one’s more disappointed than me.

Screw a buncha tumblbox… I like Tumbly!

Palm finally has a Tumblr client! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’ve been reading the book Please Kill Me… I’ve also read England’s Dreaming. I’ve decided that had I been aware (I was alive, but only 8 - 12) at that time I would have been much more comfortable with the English punk scene than the American one. The American one seems to have been filled with just absolutely ugly, filthy, scummy junkies. Don’t get me wrong, the English scene had it’s fair share of the same; but for the most part it seems that the English scene tried to stay away from that mess. Those that didn’t seem to have been under the influence (lol, sorry, I just had to) of the American scene (ala Sid & Nancy).

Kids, if you wish to sell revolution FOR REAL you must be prepared to do it with a clear mind. Yeah, it’s fun to get drunk or stoned and sit around TALKING about how screwed up things are and then tearing stuff up with wreckless abandon because you’re too messed up in the head to realize that you’re being an asshole. You also need to be able to determine whether you’re ACTUALLY right.

This was the problem with the American scene. They had no clear direction. They were too confused and fucked up to get anything done.

Anyway, here’s to the English punk scene…

Often misquoted, this is an accurate transcription of the interview which went out live on 1 December 1976.
The original Sex Pistols line-up are seated - from left to right as the camera sees them - Johnny Rotten, Steve Jones, Glen Matlock and Paul Cook. Bill Grundy sits to their left. Standing behind the Pistols are the punk hangers-on from the Bromley Contingent, Siouxsie Sioux, Steve Severin, Simon Barker and ‘Simone’.
Grundy introduces the band to the cameras.

GRUNDY (To camera) They are punk rockers. The new craze, they tell me. Their heroes? Not the nice, clean Rolling Stones… you see they are as drunk as I am… they are clean by comparison. They’re a group called The Sex Pistols, and I am surrounded by all of them…

JONES (Reading the autocue) In action!

GRUNDY Just let us see The Sex Pistols in action. Come on kids…

[Film of The Sex Pistols in action is shown; then back to Grundy.]

GRUNDY I am told that that group (hits his knee with sheaf of papers) have received forty thousand pounds from a record company. Doesn’t that seem, er, to be slightly opposed to their anti-materialistic view of life?

MATLOCK No, the more the merrier.

GRUNDY Really?

MATLOCK Oh yeah.

GRUNDY Well tell me more then.

JONES We’ve fuckin’ spent it, ain’t we?

GRUNDY I don’t know, have you?

MATLOCK Yeah, it’s all gone.

GRUNDY Really?

JONES Down the boozer.

GRUNDY Really? Good Lord! Now I want to know one thing…

MATLOCK What?

GRUNDY Are you serious or are you just making me, trying to make me laugh?

MATLOCK No, it’s all gone. Gone.

GRUNDY Really?

MATLOCK Yeah.

GRUNDY No, but I mean about what you’re doing.

MATLOCK Oh yeah.

GRUNDY You are serious?

MATLOCK Mmm.

GRUNDY Beethoven, Mozart, Bach and Brahms have all died…

ROTTEN They’re all heroes of ours, ain’t they?

GRUNDY Really… what? What were you saying, sir?

ROTTEN They’re wonderful people.

GRUNDY Are they?

ROTTEN Oh yes! They really turn us on.

JONES But they’re dead!

GRUNDY Well suppose they turn other people on?

ROTTEN (Under his breath) That’s just their tough shit.

GRUNDY It’s what?

ROTTEN Nothing. A rude word. Next question.

GRUNDY No, no, what was the rude word?

ROTTEN Shit.

GRUNDY Was it really? Good heavens, you frighten me to death.

ROTTEN Oh alright, Siegfried…

GRUNDY (Turning to those standing behind the band) What about you girls behind?

MATLOCK He’s like yer dad, inni, this geezer?

GRUNDY Are you, er…

MATLOCK Or your granddad.

GRUNDY (To Sioux) Are you worried, or are you just enjoying yourself?

SIOUX Enjoying myself.

GRUNDY Are you?

SIOUX Yeah.

GRUNDY Ah, that’s what I thought you were doing.

SIOUX I always wanted to meet you.

GRUNDY Did you really?

SIOUX Yeah.

GRUNDY We’ll meet afterwards, shall we? (Sioux does a camp pout)

JONES You dirty sod. You dirty old man!

GRUNDY Well keep going, chief, keep going. Go on, you’ve got another five seconds. Say something outrageous.

JONES You dirty bastard!

GRUNDY Go on, again.

JONES You dirty fucker! (Laughter from the group)

GRUNDY What a clever boy!

JONES What a fucking rotter.

GRUNDY Well, that’s it for tonight. The other rocker Eamonn, and I’m saying nothing else about him, will be back tomorrow. I’ll be seeing you soon, I hope I’m not seeing you [the band] again. From me, though, goodnight.

The cheesy signature tune plays [later copied and incorporated into the beginning of Television Personalities ‘Where’s Bill Grundy Now?’ song] and the credits roll. Rotten looks at his watch, Jones starts dancing to the music, and Grundy mutters an off-mic ‘Oh shit!’ to himself.
The story made the front pages of the following morning’s newspapers, amidst howls of outrage, including the now infamous Daily Mirror headline - ‘THE FILTH AND THE FURY!’. The Pistols had cemented their place in television folklore.

Source: http://www.televisionpersonalities.co.uk/pistols.htm

We cooked, we went to the movies, we visited friends, we argued a bit (lol, what would love be without fights?), we renewed our love physically, mentally and spiritually; I’m now here alone again and he’s on the other side of the world again. I’m tired everybody, completely tired. I’ve had a couple of folks tell me they were worried I’d gone to Iraq in his backpack or something, lol, no just tired. Need it to all stop and soon.

Good night.

Yes I’m lonely wanna die
Yes I’m lonely wanna die
If I ain’t dead already
Ooh girl you know the reason why.

In the morning wanna die
In the evening wanna die
If I ain’t dead already
Ooh girl you know the reason why.

My mother was of the sky
My father was of the earth
But I am of the universe
And you know what it’s worth
I’m lonely wanna die
If I ain’t dead already
Ooh girl you know the reason why.

The eagle picks my eye
The worm he licks my bones
I feel so suicidal
Just like Dylan’s Mr. Jones
Lonely wanna die
If I ain’t dead already
Ooh girl you know the reason why.

Black cloud crossed my mind
Blue mist round my soul
Feel so suicidal
Even hate my rock and roll
Wanna die yeah wanna die
If I ain’t dead already
Ooh girl you know the reason why.

Fuck!

So today Michael’s “brother” and his mother and one of our “adopted” kids came by the apartment. It was lovely talking & laughing for the first time in………. I don’t even know how long it’s been. We drank chai lattes and chatted for hours. I sometimes like the little diversions from missing Michael but once they’re over and done the void left by his absence returns and the hurt comes back tenfold and I’m this shell again! :(

How many hammers would it take to get my head to just forget until he comes home?

Can’t sleep? No way! Not me! >:(