Valley of the Trolley Dollies

In case you were wondering where I’d been. Oh, there was time in London first. Doing stuff – none of which sticks on my mind right now.

Except for the last night of the Time Machine Tour at the Royal Albert Hall, which sticks in my mind as being preceded by vague interaction with the slightly scary Darren Hayes FanBoys outside the RAH (too much back combing and eyeliner; and I refuse to accept dismissive eye-rakings over my velvet smoking jackets from boys dressed as Robert Smith {or Mr Hayes} but young enough to be my sons. Oh…), gentle strolls through Whole Pay Check Foods, marvelling at the amazing range of organic squashes, imported American Nut Butters, Single Batch Grown, Hand Harvested and Individually cooked Potato Chip varieties, and Virgin Shea Butter Pile Medication, which I slathered on my throbbing, singing and ringing arsehole (hell, my anus was a fucking orchestra of pain that day; but it didn’t show. Much.)

The joke (to one of my friends) was “must ease off on the anal sex for a while.” The fact was: “I’m so fucking scared about where my career/life is going, I can’t shit without pushing out half my lower intestine.”  (more…)