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28 Mar 2013

Post 389: It can be a crazy mixed up wordl


So said master of the one liner Milton Jones at a sold out Guildford G-live on Tuesday. Thankyou Brian for taking me. I’m not surprised it was sold out. Guildford is the most middle-class place in the Universe and Milton is clever and doesn’t swear. I’ve got tickets for Bill Bailey in a couple of Months. That too is sold out. It seems like a reasonable time to post this up – I’m feeling a bit like the underdog in life in general and this has probably been my favourite rock track of the last decade, it was quite a good thing to be at I do wish that life could be all about going to these things and the success of my 36th birthday though but it’s not! The annual event to mark another year of this mortal coil was rather wonderful and life-affirming. In pre-stroke life and post-stroke life putting on something like this was always tricky but let me just say for some reason I was etching a Gordon Ramsey style worry line in my forehead this year because it’s the kind of thing people can take our leave. Luckily, it’s getting to be something where people see people they don’t get a chance to see and it is more for them than for me. It is unfortunate that this happened to coincide with some crippling and interminably dull self doubt ie Thinking that I’ve become one of those pathetic needy people who people say ‘not him again’. I will never take the generosity of busy people with their time for granted. I rely on bloody facebook and I worry that some people stay off facebook because ‘Pardey might ask for help’ and ‘we’re just too busy’ – this is probably some tedious construct in my head but there have been some examples where people just ‘can’t be arsed’ and I get how busy people are. Anyway, enough – it was great to see so many old mates and getting a proper photographer alleviates so much stress and makes for a proper record of events – many thanks to Nick Wild. One of the things that sticks in the memory was telling an old mate of mine that I was quite fond of my new coffee machine and having my coffee a certain way and him saying ‘that’s a bit gay’, now given he’s in a civil partnership with a chap called Stephen I thought that was a bit rum!
Well, I suppose the subject should present itself – my housekeepers Gary and Gwen are going back to S Africa for a month from mid April and I can’t really cope on my own. Government social care won’t cover me because I’m not destitute (and therefore deserving enough) so I will need help – either an evening hither and thither to cook a meal and chat or a weekend. My ability to do the planning/logistics for all this is already worse than pathetic given my lack of energy. I already hate the lack of dignity doing this feels like. It feels like I should just shut-up and die quietly! I guess what I am saying is that offers of help will be so much more constructive rather than the indignity of me asking. I apologise for this being pisspoor. I’m afraid this is what happens in the brain damaged head. It’s a bit sh*t.

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