A Bicycle Built for Two
It's been a fair old busy time in the world of the big Brand Man. With the "Booky Wook" finally published and printed, life has now evolved into a lone bike ride consisting of constant publicity engagements and numerous book signings across the land. Up until now, I'd never been really aware of what it took, regarding the whole process of writing and releasing a book. I just naively assumed that it would be a slow-paced affair, a bit like J.R, Hartley when he wrote "Fly Fishing" in that old advert!
But no, releasing a book is much like a band releasing an album. I ended up DJing at the big "Booky Wook" book launch in central London, hundreds of people turned up and the press were everywhere. I've also attended a few of the book-signings since and it's been great to actually meet some of the listeners of the show. What strikes me it the way in which some of the "Brand-affiliated" colloquialisms have now become commonplace at such events. "You better watch out!", "Get Out of Tibet!" and even "Booky Wook!" seem to be chanted from the rooftops once we arrive.
Of course, not all acclaim is as well-intentioned and the awkward practice of "Celebrity Tandem Riding" that a few reporters like to indulge in, thus begins anew. I guess it's a bit like watching Beowolf in 3-D: that which is fantasy can appear as real, while that which is real can appear as fantastical. Unless of course your fantasy involves two wheels, a set of pedals and a bike frame, in which case: "You better watch out!".
This Saturday is a pre-record with Slash (ex-Guns & Roses member) dropping by.
The Truth?
If Truth be told,
Sometimes we put the truth on hold,
To enter this magical realm,
Which we can duly mould,
So could you be bold?
To bike-ride and loose control,
If a sports racer delivers your paper,
Surely a Penny Farthing is irrefutably gold!
Or Platinum, Witness the madness when,
A presenter and his co-host really don't know what's happening,
Captivated by the mirror, enraged by the mail,
Cajoling poor Jo'leen, singing builders are sent to jail,
So to get a hold of the truth,
What should we do?
The "Jellyfish Jesus" is coming,
We're ready...are you?
brilliant blog Gee as always :)
xxxxx
Dont forget to mention that Russell is on Jonathan Ross tommorrow night.
Sorry to be nit-picking about the grammar,
but is 'loose control' correct or should it be
'lose control'?
x x x x
Cal
And most importantly...
..It was my birthday on saturday haha.
xxx
Carol, my love!
Let go of your gramatical sencor and swim in the flow of enjoyment.
SWIM!!
Christmas is coming the goose is getting fat
I feel like running cos it don't feel like that
Seasons Greetings greet me with chilling pain
Cut with the knife of ice again
Christmas is coming put on your hat
Smile for the camera
Or hide in your emptiness
Emotion that is flat
Sucked into the vortex
In the gravy train
Plucked from the steam
Of the cranberried game
Will it forever always be the same
For what is the ultimate gain
A festering heart of Tidings of sorrow
Waiting eagerly
All over tommorrow
Going through the motions
All seemingly hollow
Just put on a brave face
Don't get caught in the trap
Of thinking
A guest with welcome on his face
My door will rapp
Find the shame and disgrace
Of being alone
Give chase to the race of setting the tone
I'd rather be hit over the head with a spade
Than endure the festive tribute thats made
Were you called to triumph over suffering
Will you reach out and touch my heart
As its crying muffling
Can I hear angels as they
Are slowly dying
Forgive me my sins
The ancients are lying
Its all for your signature
As my hope is untying
Help me to break out of the mould
Take a fresh look at the prospect I hold
Pour out the heartache and settle for sold
Bring my countanance in from the cold
I will try this year to feel
A genuine warmth
Stoke the fire inside my
Own depths
To burn a pleasant glow
But first I must let go of the memories grieve the Loss and
Breath new sentiments
Courage and bravery are for overcomers bearly
Inclement
Glistening glowing bejeweled harps strummed gently
bestowing
A gentle gaze of shimmering knowing
Captured in sync with the measured distinct of the
Shaman as he rolls and feels for the thaught he can
think
Missing the point of the millers fuss as he sweeps
away residue In a cloud of dust
Must keep going going it must for the knowing of
Growing may
Keep its thrust
Bitchumen can seal up the porous give it a steady
Reliyable countanance
Courage to float and not sink
Changing it to amphibious breaking the link
Giving one to the other can bring it back from the
brink
The steady hand would not look and wink
Seeing how the former was transformed to fauna that
would camoflage incredulously think
How could it be this vessel so swept aside
Given to horror and looks that are snide
Can be changed into perseption of upwards slide
Its easy once used and ruined for a mothers chide
THe newness gave rise to catch the glance of the
makers side
He remade it gave it a tough old torso
The sound of a tap would echo differently of course so
Now the vessel is a beautiful vase
Placed in the window translating the shards
Causing light to play and flutter as it reflects from
The ornaments shutter
What was left to see of the old in the gutter
Will still be an object of derision and stutter
But high on a ledge sits the crystal marvel
Drinking in the suns radiance
Set never to stumble
Awareness twisted in humanities grumble
Take a look if you dare at its beautiful glare
You may catch a glimpse of the magical stare
Sorry for the sad state of my awful poems.
My mews is a burden you will bear with the ultimate graciousness.
I am so grateful for that.
Well, I crumbled today and broke my resolute hard faced resolve not to put the heating on.
Today I sat there perishing.
The layers of jumpers and coats and warm fleesy slippers were not keeping out thew cold and it was going through to my bones.
I put the heating on.
What a lovely feeling of gently thawing out.
My face now is absolutely glowing with thew change in my homes climate.
I,ve left it on number ten.
It will keep the icy chill out.
Now we wont have to crawl back into bed every ten minutes!
When we exhale there wont be steam puffing out.
What a weekend.
Non eventful as usual.
But what a weekend anyhow!
I,m alwawys amazed at the mode I go into at the weekend.
Relaxed and enjoyable.
Suddenly noticing what a lovely day it is outside and the need to make use of that.
Gently going with the flow of the weekend radio of nostalgia.
Come Monday, its back to the noiggling feeling of guilt and pressure of performance.
Must achieve and be ruled by the clock.
I felt so wreched when I got up, I just didnt wanrt to face the day.
At breakfast, I took a little hoeopathic remedy, Valarian, St johns wart.
For thew little good it would do.
Littlun commented saying,"poor mummy6 has to take pills, what arre they for?"
I awcwardly responded , honestly by saying I hoped they would help me face the day and not want to go back to slee.
To which he said in Homeristic retoric," poor mummy having to take pills so she wont want to go back to sleep"
Well I thought I would sit and do some maditational reflection.
It took a goog two and a half hours or so, but I do feel considerably better.
I r5an a hot bath and in in, as I dunked my head in the steaming water,I mewsed that if there were nothing, I would rather die.
I dont know how people get through their lives witout a hope of spiritual existance.
Without the knowledge that there is a greater power to tap into that has our interests at heart.
To live by your wits alone. Some mean feat indee.
David Blane quotes a famous saying on telly yesterday, it was something like.
To not have faith to a believer is inconcievable to them.
To have an absolute faith without proof to a non believer is equally unbelievable.
Love you
Hey Ruscieilious!
World from the horses mouth.
Jonathan Ross told me on facebook in capitals and great enthusiasm, he thought you were "GREAT" on his show.
I see you baby shakin dat ass!!!!!!!!!
WOOoo you sexy thing!!!!!!!
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