The dogs started barking up the alleyway at half 7 this morning. It's quarter past 12 and they're still at it. It's akin to
knobhead festival-goers screaming "bollocks!" into the messy night. I think if I'd bought a dog and it reckoned it urgently needed to be in the house, I'd just let it in. Saying that, the dogs round here are souped-up on the devil and put to work on each other in the bowls of
Bootle skateparks. 1 and a half weeks into the tour and I got the grump of a nocturnal rock musician. Rough with the smooth. Rob's coffee this morning has got my nails down to the quick.
Instant chat-a-like makes it all worthwhile:
PETER:
it was a weird night, after we left the gig berni got chatted up buy this alcoholic and i heard the most crazy sentence I have ever heard.PAUL:
What was it?PETER:
'your exposed ankles are taking me to a new Babylon, i bet you've got a punani dats a real crispy'haha
she literally ran away
the weird thing was James went 'what are you saying mate' and he goes 'NEVER interrupt de black man'
