22 May 2012


  • Dismal reading
  • I know Lulu Hynd, had heard she'd hit some speed bumps but didnt realise this bad.
  • 16 May 2012


  • Wall St Journal.

  • Answers some of the questions and conjecturing - and just plain puffed-up guessery - zinging and plodding round the Navigators snug bar and gropery.

  • 700 million withdrawn.
  • 13 May 2012

    11 May 2012


    Serendipitous scenario: I take the camera round the garden to snap the 'pressure points', as we shiatsu types know them.

    Although I cursed and reviled villa thefti and all who sailed her in every nook and c as i plodded round, in tranquil recollection certain areas have taken on the character of specific black prayers ~ penury, physic, violence, disharmony, the usual ~ and i thought i'd make an album for posterity and some whipcrack snarky captions.

    As I was doing this a pal of maman's rolled up and sarcastically praised me for 'getting' jardinerie.

    I told her what i was actually up to and she sniggered but followed me round as i rattled off my commentary.

    Then i made tea and produced fresh biscuits and we looked out at the view that, for five years eight months, my mother compared to a perfect hong kong winter day.

    Then the pal drove off and i grabbed the puter and wrote mails to my girls including my tour of doom.

    All this walking the overgrowth and remembering had taken me back and my mood was vicious. I marked the calendar, 'elginiasmos day'.

    Next day with coffee on patio, noticed what looked like fluffy stuff on the lawn. Assumed it was a pigeon the cat had trapped and rent asunder.

    When i went down to the lawn i saw it was actually some sort of furry ex-creature but unrecognisable. Very interesting sight.

    Snapped it liked a murder scene and was delighted to see a tiny skull - a cat? could it be Louki? too small, wrong shape. Anyway.

    Because i can't work this new blogger format with its frigging div class separators, i can't be bothered to arrange the snaps in order. But they're self-explanatory.

    Walk round garden remembering the vileness and all my hubble bubble nonsense. Next day, gruesomnia. A bit fronking late but better than never.

    A light breeze wafting the strands aloft and up n away to Theftishire.

    Reminds me of Fred Trueman story:

    El Fiery hails cab: 'Waterloo!'

    Cabbie: 'The station?'

    Fred: I'm a bit bloody late for the battle.'

    See left for Sam looking innocent.

    Excellent omen, wonderful timing.

    Obviously old. Wonder if it was dear Louki who just upped and vanished, not like her.

    Miss her.

    I thought a vipere, Mum said car but nah she never ventured out.

    Plus she was black n white - does age of a corpse turn it brown and anonychat?

    10 May 2012


    As any guitarist will tell you, that is the ideal table on which to change strings. Flat and soft.

    Tasia had decided that the mats n rugs needed hosing down so we lugged them out and she got on with it.

    Next she hung them out to dry and that's where I spotted this ideal.

    Open Mic ~

    This new blogspot design is roobish coz i can't tell where the heck i am, so i'm just going to tap and just going to bring in fotos and you'll have to make do.

    Somewhere in this are photos of a great open mic gig session at Lucciola, and yes i did play.

    Helas, Denise was snapping me and she's not on Facebook, sensible gel, so we havent seen each other since the gig so I've not been able to copy/transfer.

    She did show me them on her camera and I look amazing, could have been posed, I look so real and poised.

    It was a true gypsy open mic-type session, everyone cool and uninhibited - cept yrs truly of course, who arrived dressed like stiff whitey and proceeded to order all the posh stuff as the Real McCopouloi made do with gruel on account of these being the days of austerity and this a long-distance call with no one having any money.

    Even Denise looked uneasy as the musicians eyed our groaning board and un-groaning us, and then they eyed very ungroaning Denise herself.

    But that was OK because we'd brought D's son as token street cred pauper.

    Full album - oh all right. Here's the complete album. I'm going to get in trouble here because it includes one or two stalkees who will send round their boyfriends to get medieval on my ass. And i think there're a few others who ticked the 'no publicity' box.

    There was also a rembetika concert.

    07 May 2012


    but all my pals have seen this and say it's over-played on t'radio

    02 May 2012

    01 May 2012



    sprint dont slouch to here


    Read up coz I'm not joking and this chance won't come again.

    A good pal is trying to raise fotoLibra's profile — run don't slouch here and 'Like' the heck out of everything you see.

    You won't have to pretend; in fact, you'll be scrabbling for the 'Adore/Impressed/Yess!' bouton.

    Sérieusement, Gwyn and fotoLIBRA are one of the heros keeping it real so ignore my flippant tone.

    Do check it out, kick the tyres, prod around under the hood.

    If this is the service you could do with, what kept you?

    HOW SEND INDIVIDUALLY TO FB 'FRIENDS'? Zounds! There must be legions of my ex-galley slave buddies who shared the lash aboard the good ship HMS Bezosia and who for whom this sort of hack is eezie-peezie.

    How can Gwyn alert all his FB pals? Someone must know. You guys must spam yer nearest n dearest daily ... Dudes! Share.

    Calling all Corfucian Irregulars, come up with the goods and I will win brownie points from Gwyn's gorgeousa missus, Yvonne, and a nod of approval from her old man.

    And you will get a mention in despatches.

    Gad, I spoil you.