Sat 12th November 2011

Friday, 4.30pm.

I am in the Sun Hotel. I have been working, honest. I will have to stop using the computer soon as it's a bit antisocial at this time on a Friday night.

The foxy solicitors a couple of tables away have declared the weekend. How do you get to wear a sexy grey woollen dress to work, or has she already changed? One of them has taken her colleague's phone out of her bag while she's in the loo and changed her ringtone to a posh voice saying "Ring ring. Hello?" over and over again. When she comes back they're going to ring it.

Update: much hilarity, with which everyone joins in.

Two male PhD students, who clearly think that making a bit of an effort with your dress before you present yourself in society is to debase oneself with a vulgar self-regard from which educated people should escape, are complaining about how their undergrads can't explain why they don't like a film or a book. Sexually wishful texts ping between Leicester and Lancaster. It's going to be difficult to see each other any time soon as I'll be in Huddersfield for most of the rest of November at the contemporary music festival, trying not to get the giggles over this year's featured composer, whose Christian name is Bent.

Saturday, 9.40am

Great night, as usual, with Kitty and our rarely-seen mutual friend Rod. Kitty flirting a bit with the partnered Rod. Rod making himself all the more desirable through being quite dry. At last, people I can talk to in real life about Mary-Ann. "She's clever and she's dirty," and I can't praise a woman more highly than that. Feel a bit ragged out but we're going to deal with this by having some Pinot Noir in the Sun with our breakfast.

An hour ago, beep beep! "I've emailed you X". She wonders whether I might be available for a couple of hours in Birmingham tomorrow. Yes I am, Mary-Ann, very yes.

6 comments

Comment from: [Member]

enjoyed your description of the people at the Sun Hotel… and will swipe that ring tone trick to prank my friends. funny and harmless…

Sat 12th November 2011 @ 13:47

Comment from: The Unbearable Banishment [Visitor]

Kitty and Rod and looby and Mary-Ann reminds me of that old 1960’s sex chestnut film Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice.

Who the hell names their kid Bent? There’s a journalist here in the U.S. named Stone Phillips. Same question; who would name their kid Stone?

Sat 12th November 2011 @ 20:01

Comment from: TwistedScottishBastard [Visitor]

My hat’s off to you, I don’t know where you find all the energy.
Pills?

Sun 13th November 2011 @ 05:11

Comment from: [Member]

DF: try it, it’s a laugh.

UB: And now you say that, it reminds me of another, a British film that probably couldn’t be made today, called Rita Sue and Bob Too, about a completely plausible three-way affair between a middle aged man and two much younger girls.

Bent’s get-out clause is that he’s Danish so it won’t have the connotations it has in English. Talking of names which don’t travel well, there’s also a common Indian family name, Dikshit.

TSB: I’ve always liked playing with chemistry sets.

Sun 13th November 2011 @ 09:34

Comment from: nursemyra [Visitor]

Pinot noir for breakfast? good Lord!

Sun 13th November 2011 @ 10:00

Comment from: [Member]

I like the reckless feeling of naughtiness. Oops, I’ve just ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir at 10am. Besides, drinking with breakfast is common in Hungary (from where my housemates originate) and Kitty likes an early drink, so to refuse the proffered liquour with a dogmatic adherence to the benighted doctrines of temperance would be a dereliction of manners.

Mon 14th November 2011 @ 04:03

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looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person

M / 60 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

"Looby is a left-wing intellectual who is obsessed with a) women's clothes and b) tits." -- Joy of Bex.

WLTM literate woman, 40-65. Must have nice tits, a PhD, and an mdma factory in the shed, although the first on its own will do in the short term.

There are plenty of bastards who drink moderately. Of course, I don't consider them to be people. They are not our comrades.
Sergei Korovin, quoted in Pavel Krusanov, The Blue Book of the Alcoholic

I am here to change my life. I am here to force myself to change my life.
Chinese man I met during Freshers Week at Lancaster University, 2008

The more democratised art becomes, the more we recognise in it our own mediocrity.
James Meek

Tell me, why is it that even when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a beautiful evening, or a conversation in agreeable company, it all seems no more than a hint of some infinite felicity existing apart somewhere, rather than actual happiness – such, I mean, as we ourselves can really possess?
Turgenev, Fathers and Sons

I hate the iPod; I hate the idea that music is such a personal thing that you can just stick some earplugs in your ears and have an experience with music. Music is a social phenomenon.
Jeremy Wagner

La vie poetique has its pleasures, and readings--ideally a long way from home--are one of them. I can pretend to be George Szirtes.
George Szirtes

Using words well is a social virtue. Use 'fortuitous' once more to mean 'fortunate' and you move an English word another step towards the dustbin. If your mistake took hold, no-one who valued clarity would be able to use the word again.
John Whale

One good thing about being a Marxist is that you don't have to pretend to like work.
Terry Eagleton, What Is A Novel?, Lancaster University, 1 Feb 2010

The working man is a fucking loser.
Mick, The Golden Lion, Lancaster, 21 Mar 2011

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Brum brum

6 comments

looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person

Rummage in my drawers

The Comfort of Strangers

"Just sit still and listen" - woman to teenage girl at Elliott Carter weekend, London 2006

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