flicked Video Hits on to see ... Smells Like Teen Spirit.
Spooky.
Takes me back to 1992. Or was it 1991? It was the school holidays, I remember that much, and I turned from a very normal 16 year old into a very normal 17 year old, discovered black clothes and grunge, got my ears pierced (controversy!!) and grew my hair.
Woken up this morning by a text message from a number I didn't recognise. Using my incredibly powers of deduction I realised it was the friend of the girl Charlie found on Friday. Don't remember giving her my number. I may have pashed her on the dance floor though. I didn't mention it because, well ... it's terribly embarrassing really, isn't it? I am not one for such activities as a general rule and it ruins my trying to be cool and aloof 'Point 6? I care not for your Point 6, fetch me a brace of quail' vibe.
But we're all friends here, right? So I promise, no more secrets. Well, of course there will be some secrets, because the whole talking openly about sex thing clashes with many years of Catholic Oppression as a child, for a start, but you know what I mean.
Can you forgive me?
Awesome.
Other than that, I want to buy a drum kit.
Foolish, really.
Having a (very) quiet drink last night (with someone I met for the first time in RealLife) and the drummer of the jazz trio playing average versions of old standards had this excellent little Cocktail kit. Hard to explain:
Very compact, the bass drum and tom are the same drum (the kick pedal kicks up) , you can pretty much carry it anywhere, and you play it standing up. I don't have a car, and need to play more, so it would be rather cool to have a little kit I could take on the tram. Or strap to the motorbike I may be buying in the next few weeks.
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