Practice makes the heart grow fonder

iTunes' party shuffle is playing a copy of: Teardrops Will Fall - Ry Cooder - Into the Purple Valley, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn't steal music.

Maybe it's good that me and Estelle seldom meet up. Absence makes the fart go Honda, as Steph Song used to say to me. (Speaking of Steph, she hasn't called in yonks, and I read in her last New Man interview that she's been Googling herself on the internet and finding many things about herself which are soooo untrue!) Yeah, so, Estelle calls me Friday night when I am so tired I can hardly press the green button to answer her call. But seeing her name on the display makes me summon a few ounces of energy to do so. She says hi, and I say hi back. She says how are you? I say tired like fuck. She says me too. And she says, hey you wanna come over and hang out? I go mmmmmmmm but I am very, very tired. She says, OK, why don't you call me when you wanna come over, I have coffee? I say OK. I take a shower and nap, hoping to wake up in an hour or so, so's I can go over. As with most well-laid plans these days, this one stuffs up as well, and I sleep way into the night, till it's too late to go over and hang out and have a cup of coffee made by Estelle. Bummer. I could've had a cuppa coffee. But it's the Count that thought, and that's really, really good on a day when you're really, really tired. Giant profiterole @ Lazy Gourmet

Surf stop: Lynnzter