A Flower Blip

From the king of misery? Surely not. Why? Why God? Why has the man who has made a living pastime out of moaning suddenyl taken a photo of a bloody flower?

It isn't just one. It's two. Theres the red one which I know is a poppy because I buy one and wear it with blind patriotism and sincere appreciation of those who have walked the earth before me. The other is yellow and could be stray oilseed rape or a weed. I don't know. However I know together they provide a flash of colour in our otherwise dismal yard area. So here they are.

Don't worry I'm still the same old moaning b'stard I always have been.

I'd like to state for the record that despite her awfully screeching singing voice and frankly annoying 'middle-class girl talking common-chic' speaking voice: I soooo fancy Kate Nash. I just youtubed her and my man (well, not literally but it's a saying down here / up here) Billy Bragg doing a cover of New England. Now if I could stick Kirsty Maccolls voice in Kate Nashs face then I'd be onto a winner. Don't know about her figure as she was sat behind a piano. I'm not adverse to a bit of cuddly though, its eyes and smile that float my boat, all packaged up wi' some of that dark hair and a bit of the indie kid style fashion. Yup, thats whats lighting my ginger fires at the moment.

That and of course a passion for photography. If Nash insisted on pursuing music and wasn't interested in starting a blip journal? Well we'd part ways after a night. Maybe two if she promised not to talk, or sing.

However I feel that unless she is touring peoples living rooms, or gets lost enroute to Skegness and stops at my house for directions I am unlikely to ever meet Kate Nash. That means that Eliza Dolittle is going to have to watch herself at Harvest at Jimmys this September. Backstage passes baby, for me plus one.

Anyone fancy it? (Ideal applicants will be female, single and fairly indiscriminate about who they share a tent with).