f'n' purdy gurd/ sipping strong cafe au lait and listening cpt. beefheart, ice cream for crow/ un-hung-over consequence of low alc. intake la nuit d. and an early night/ the cold persists though is now little more than an annoyance/ stereo phenomenal/ been listening to john coltrane, settin' the pace, this chill morn., jaw agape at the pace and clarity of my system/ switched my generic leads for some qed quenex 2s yester. thus removing the penultimate weak-link-in-the-chain/ sheeyut it rocks/ still waiting for my speaker stands and pogues albums tho' it seems deliveries range from lightening quick to lead slow and everything in between/ the ease and thrift with which i've built this fine system is yet another affirmation that in certain respects i've moved forward considerably and self and outer exploration are fine ways of achieving that/ anyhoo, must jet...

currently listening to zappa and the mothers, magdalena/ not too bad tho' i still think van vilet, aka beefheart the more engaging musician/ zappa to me is much like bowie, a great composer and producer who supported great talents/ shit, then there was costello and macgowan/ that's all i can think of right now.../ stereo fantastic tho' salivating over decca and grado cartridges/ it's great when someone seriusly into their music (id est most of my family and friends) hears my hi-fi and goes 'like, wow?'/ h'ever i find it very hard to be satisfied/ i just need to relax/ i came back from a mate's t'other night, stuck on biggie's life after death and 'twas like a serotonin/dopamine cocktail quenching the parched throat of my ears (you see?)/ yeah, just fucking relax, man...

f'n' 'k' tho' congested and sad/ father took us for lunch yester. at a notable local tapas bar, which was excellent/ we'd much calamaris, octopus, lamb cutlets, garlic chicken, spicy potatoes, warm bread and vin red/ polished it and us off with their sublime pistachio ice cream and lick-you-er coffees/ today is rain and cold tho' the knife like wind of the last cpl days's dissipated/ sipping a nice argentine rouge and awaiting the arrival of my castle speaker stands/ i've got two items on order, some silver speaker cable and a russ andrews reference power cable (or cord') and then c'est ca, no more, just me and records/ buying new kit it is kick in itself/ even good cables are pleasing to one's aesthetic sense/ but one has to stop at some point, let the components settle in and just enjoy the music/ were it not for music one would not be attracted to hi-fi in the first place/

the hound's absence still constitutes a gaping hole/ this bug i caught some one week ago remains, tho' weakly/ convalescence should surely be attempted free of toxins and i only lasted 72 hours without/ n'er mind/ writing goes well/ keep buying stereo shit and albums, a record arriving at least once daily/ been caining the smiths, death of a disco dancer and happy mondays, step on and kinky afro/ got the pogues peace and love yester tho' 'ts certainly not their finest/ not to worry for rum, sodomy and the lash is on its way/

feelings morphing hither and now and when?/ indeed, 'tis not too pleasant feeling emotionally and physically confused/ i'm unusually sensitive and paranoid, said the great tricky/ but what will really happen, other than the shit one inflicts on one's self?/ and i'm always worried, said mark e smith of the fall/ rain rain rain, awh duh tyme.../ i've been places...now i just want to stay where i am...

stille in profound shock 'v'ng lost the hound/ the vet informed me 90% of dog youth-in-asia is staffy pacific/ they've become a very popular dog with the working classes who seem to have less idea of what dog owner ship involves and, once they get the dog, less or no inclination to take responsibility/ i just hope the guy who abandoned him to my friend has some for of karmic retribution visited upon him/ what was most disconcerting however was the fact no one - police, breeders associations, charities, re-homing centres - would take him on/ i should have said no in the first place but, had i, they would have got wasted and released the dog into the wild/ i suppose at least with us he got to spend a pleasant few months/ i keep running through all the options just to convince myself i did everything in my power before having him put down/ and i did/ it just doesn't take the stinging emptiness away...people should have to go through a rigorous inspection process, both physical and psychological, before they are allowed to take on any animal/ post-all, what sort of individual buys a dog with a temperament like that, fails to register of spay him, and then dump him after four whole years?/ someone who should not own a dog/ there was a programme on disabled dogs the other night and the in-house psychiatrist hit the nail on the head: ppl keeping these dogs alive are not kind and altruistic; they simply prolong the animals discomfort to spare themselves grief/ i feel fucking empty and sick while his real owner walks around with no idea (tho' if he did, i'm sure no care) to what happened/ that poor fucking dog, man/ poor fucking dog...

no post yester as had the dog put to rest/ the vet said it should have been done when he bit me though i'm glad not/ the last few weeks have given him a chance to get over it and he went on a good note, tail wagging, paw in hand/ at first i felt numb, then we went to lunch to celebrate his passing and the numbness remained/ when i arrived home around five however it felt like my insides were being torn out/ i was momentarily concerned for my mental health/ popped a citalopram, leveled off and went to bed early, no booze, no drugs.../ feel better this morning though mainly through rationalising he's at peace and better off than living muzzled and frustrated/ he was dumped on us aged four with balls and a lot of anxiety issues/ his owner proper should have made the hard decision but didn't/ however, no matter how many people, professional or non-, tell me it was the right decision, it makes little difference and will not fill this cavernous emptiness.../