Nowt so Queer as Folk

A work of art (allegedly) photographed in King's Cross.

I've been wondering what 'fake hookers' are. Do they have sex with you, then pretend to take money? Or do they take your money, and then pretend to have sex? (I thought that was what real hookers did.)

People in London make their lives very complicated.

King's Cross was, and probably still is, one of the railway termini where young men and women would arrive from the North looking for glamour, wealth and fame. A lot of them would be recruited into being prostitutes and rent boys. The manager of Tottenham Hotspur was arrested kerb crawling for hookers at King's Cross. So was one of Brother Beyond.

Two months after this record came out, there was a huge fire at King's Cross tube station. About 30 people died. It was quite eerie listening to the song after that. The film is by Derek Jarman.

The man at the back of the queue was sent
To feel the smack of firm government
Linger by the flyposter, for a fight
It's the same story every night
I've been hurt and we've been had
You leave home, and you don't go back

Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee

Only last night I found myself lost
By the station called King's Cross
Dead and wounded on either side
You know it's only a matter of time
I've been good and I've been bad
I've been guilty of hanging around

Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee

So I went looking out today
For the one who got away
Murder walking round the block
Ending up in King's Cross
Good luck, bad luck waiting in a line
It takes more than the matter of time

Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee

Someone told me Monday, someone told me Saturday
Wait until tomorrow and there's still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and there's still no guarantee
And there's still no guarantee
There is still no guarantee
Words and Music by NEIL TENNANT and CHRIS LOWE

Can't Buy A Thrill

I put iTunes on random play, and it served up Steely Dan. This is a wonderful album. I'm wriggling in my chair to the splintered piano playing at the start of 'Fire In The Hole'.

I decline
To walk the line
They tell me that I'm lazy

Worldly wise
I realize
That everybody's crazy

A woman's voice reminds me
To serve and not to speak:
Am I myself?
Or just another freak?

I slept oddly. My lungs were playing chords.

I could hear them making sounds, like bagpipes that had been left in a corner, with a dog sitting on them. They don't feel inflamed today. I think this means I am getting better.

I've been spitting. Isn't that a funny thing to feel optimistic about?

I am moving around very slowly, but I want to eat. I'm going to walk to my local shop and buy fresh bread.

For some reason, if you search Google Images for "dog with bagpipes", you get a picture of President Abraham Lincoln.

Hi Ken

High Street, Kensington

A long time ago, (when I were a lad), High Street Kensington was the home to Biba, the most fabulous boutique on earth, where my cousin Rachel went to buy trendy clothes that she dreamed would make her look like Julie Driscoll, or the lady on the right.

In its heyday, Biba took up the entire Derry and Toms department store building, and beautiful young ladies could try on their maxi coats and kinky boots surrounded by Egyptian columns, marble flooring, and Art Deco stained glass.

I sat in my bedroom, listening to the first and second Roxy Music albums, dreaming of the glamorous, amplified, sexy, drug enhanced, world my generation would eventually inherit.

Then we joined the Common Market, and had a recession, and a three-day week.

Then a bit later we had punk, which was not really glamorous or sexy, but it was amplified and fun.

Girls at Play

One friend's daughter at play, with another, the same age:

"I know. You be Supernanny, and I'll be a pole-dancer..."

Fatherhood is going to be so interesting, if I get round to it...

Crocheted Coral Reef

This is what I found when I was Googling for references to "The Great Wen". (I know, my dears, teh interwebs is a random place, and I should not be let near it.)

The mad lady scientists at the Institute for Figuring have crocheted this beautiful hyperbolic coral reef. Crochet advances our understanding of mathematics, and the nature of space. And it's pretty.