White lines rule

Thought I’d wear a trilby hat cos the temperature had dipped and it’s said that 30-40% of your body heat can be lost through your head, not sure how true that is but I definitely feel warmer with headwear, especially when it’s been loaned to me by a warm hearted friend…

So I head into town in my green parka and said trilby (with personalised gold band which then happened to make me look a bit like a smooth criminal) and I hadn’t even made it into the pub before being affectionately ridiculed for looking something like the aforementioned smooth criminal… Admittedly the lager fuelled lad did do a fair mimic of the deceased Micky Jackson in my honour and i, deciding to have a bouncy night from the start, went along with it and flicked my heels and busted a couple of moves for him and his pal’s entertainment..

I click my heels and whisk into the pub, which, as always on a friday night, is booming.. I head straight for the bar and yeah i’m getting a few looks, the trilby certainly seems to draw favour, coupled with my blue n pink hair bobbing out the base of the hatline … i’m wanting a whiskey and ask the barmaid for a Glen Moray, they don’t have, so i asks for a Famous Grouse, they don’t have  that either… they hands me a list of the scotch they have so i go for johnny walker but hey, they’re all out of that … i’ll have a G&T then … so the barmaid asks which type of Gin i’d like… i think my look from beneath the rim of my hat just about gave her the answer ….

Anyway, i’m in the pub to meet an ex-band member mate so we can catch up on some lost time. All starts well but i cant help sense that i no longer feel the same way about this person, there’s too much water passed under our bridges and i’m left realising that our relationship is really teetering … Weirdly enough we move on to another pub and then one more, we have crossed words, then make up, have one last pint together, sing a karaoke song each and then my wayward airhead mind steers me out of the ale house and i jog on quickly across town, on my own.

As i turn a corner there ahead of me is a good friend, busking out in the cool night air.. ‘can i do a couple’ i hear meself asking, ‘for sure, be my guest’ says the captain and he sits off for a smoke whilst i promptly cue mad world.. Get some coins thrown in, the acoustics on lord street absolutely amazing, felt like i was a superstar as my voice carried right on up the buildings and into the sky above the city.. One more song, played ‘tick tock’ by futurejack and relished every moment, thankful to the people who put their money into the captain’s pot whilst on their friday night out.

Says my goodbyes to the captain.
Phone ringing.
Ex band member, fuming.
Texting.
I shouldn’t be getting off
Without saying goodbye.
Good goodbyes are always better left unsaid.

Moving swiftly on and i jump a bus out of town. Heading for Smithdown road, gonna meet a new friend who actually doesn’t show up but does ensure that i find my way to a wonderful little bar where the ratio of men to women has the best odds going. I know enough people in there and start having a ball. The band start playing their deep south rumba salsa swing thing and i keep on drinking…

I have a sweet spot for drummers, always have, always will i reckon.
And so, the band finish their set and the drummer is soon by my side and we’re getting on just fine, great little dancer he was too, swinging me about, making me laugh and smile. But then someone else comes in the room, someone i like a lot, a recent friend and then everything starts to change and the odds stack in my favour…

More drinking, more music, and the guys getting on the piano, striking out some grand tunes .. The atmosphere was boss..

The drummer offers me a hotel room with him for the night but my other mate, the dark haired talented lad, well i reckon he cast a spell on me, which is particularly good cos by now the drummer has lost me, as soon as he starts offering up some white line indulgence. My rule of thumb is, almost always, decline.

Suffice to say the rest of the night was brilliant and it carried on and spilt over into the next day and it carried on and t’was about 30 hours until i returned the said trilby to its rightful owner. It would easily have been on my head for another twelve hours had the talented lad not burst the spell and popped me out of my weekend bubble for ending up being just like the majority, preferring white lines to me..

My rule of thumb when it comes down to choice… almost always, decline.

So it all ended when, just about 2am when i left the bar and walked from smithdown road back to the other side of town … i freely admit i was feeling pretty flat, disappointed and let down, but i had to smile to myself and acknowledge and savour the fun i’d had, the golden hours i’d spent in between.  Sometimes just got to bite the bullet, when White Lines Rule is best to know when to quit.

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A little nip turns into a red hot night

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A bit of a cold start to bonfire night amidst a circle of students who looked upon me quite simply as a bit of flesh.. The emaciated bespectacled organiser and his cute looking counterpart, both too young and inexperienced to even bother to offer that tiny shred of necessity… ‘heat’ to a naked model… Uh huh, just a hard seat, a cold hard table and admittedly a luxury purple blanket was what they presented.  It was brass monkeys in that their grandiose room at the student guild.. A perfect temperature for perfect nipples, there is always a saving grace to every darn hellish situation…
And saving grace continued from there with the night improving somewhat as each step of the way got more drunken, every sambuca swigged, warming the cockles (and said frosted nipples)  to the point where invitation came through via text, to ‘the bonfire party’…
A quick stop at the city centre booze palace, where they are no longer offering any sort of bargains and indeed rob n thieve you of your small change..having got onto the game that every drinker just wants to leave the premises with their said drink and will not quibble over the few pence not forthcoming in change… Disgruntled, I obliged this game of theft because, i too just wanted to leave the shop with said alcohol, what i do remember is calling out loudly it be ‘dirty’… It’s an extra revenue all of its own… (the corner shop in my hometown where I grew up was doing it more than 25 years ago too, they know what they’re doing)…
So…ahoy the bonfire

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What an extremely wonderful warm collection of people were to be found in the vicinity..
I could possibly recount all that took place because I remember every enlightening conversation going on (even though I was well n truly under the influence) however… Personally for me, the best part of the night was when my good friend and I being deep deep in conversation suddenly took a swerve for the worse when he, totally wasted, lost his footing and stumbled, tripped and whooshed himself through the fire to fall in the lap of another good friend over t’other side… Everyone gathered to check he was okay… Then, sweet dear little Helen chirped up, looking at me.. ‘did you push him’…
It’s lucky we were all unashamedly very drunk and found it all to be hysterical

I’d like to elaborate on the unfolding of the rest of the night but alas that would mean I’d be telling my secrets, what I will garnish is that it was sweet n splendid and I think my ‘dry run’ new york nakedness is working already….

Halloween happiness …..

My beautiful friend again gave me her sofa for the night before Halloween, and we spent the evening along Lark Lane, in Keith’s wine bar to be precise. It was lovely because i’d started the evening at the Lark Lane Artelier run by Alex Corina – there was some kooky artwork on show; being the opening night of their Christmas exhibition. Well well worth a visit…. i made some new friends and met a couple of artsy pals too. We drank red wine, chatted artistically, enthusiastically and even futuristically.

 

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Then i met my favourite Harpsichord player and we ate at Raga’s across the lane. Unbelievably hot stuff!

Then we went to Keith’s and got stuck in over a bottle (or two) – of good red wine.

There was some fantastic live Jazz being played and the atmosphere was particularly chilled.

On my walk to Keith’s i spotted something fantastic in a little shop window and thought to myself, that could make up part of a great Halloween costume …

The night continued on to be a great one, with lots of red wine drinking and then some happy threesome partying back at the flat (meaning three people having good solid banter and drinks and nibbles) !!!

Thus, i returned to the Lane the following morning (Halloween itself) and purchased the very wonderful mask i’d seen – and prior to getting to that shop and upon when i jumped out of the boogie bus, in another shop window i saw the best accompaniment to that mask and immediately went in and purchased it ….

So here’s how i went to the Lomax Liverpool for Halloween (via Brink and a bit of an acoustic slot)

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aha! and i’d booked into a local motel so as me and my wonderful drummer could party and then go get a couple of hours worth of zeds before we had to go our separate ways into the madness thereafter …

Personally Halloween came and went in a particularly laid back way – the quality of costumes seen at the Lomax was gruesomely brilliant and there were lots of live performances …. WE, futurejack, played in the downstairs cellar bar and it was horridly enjoyable.

Back to the motel. Lots of chatting and a couple of Gin Toddy’s ….. and then some zeds zzzzzzzzzzzz