im back, and im worse than ever. i would like to go for a very long walk. i would like never to fly coach again. i am certainly aiming to avoid frankfurt. i have been reading proust as furiously as is possible, which i leave you to interpret for yourself. i have immense admiration for mr brule (nothing new). i may well be writing to you soon. i am off.

faster, deeper, wider and harder. never before in the field of (my) human endevour have i been so busy. well almost. but there has been offa's dyke. and more housey shananegens (veering towards the darker side of things). and my annual plan. and wien. and (virtual) hawthorne blossom. i remain, etc.

well, it has been a long day. i went south again to have a newly qualified dentist break the english langauge as she mended my teeth. i went to my parents house to talk taper relief with the fraternity. then as i made the copy of songs of love and hate which i am presently listening to, we reminised about the car journeys of youth it had sound tracked culminating in a share fake vomiting session (better than it sounds). came back to the smoke to draw some cash and pay the deposit on my new gaff. then to meet good old nicola who is coming south for keeps. and she gave me a birthday present. then housey business, and met the new team. each one a swell. now it is all joanofarc and that famousblueraincoat. my g-d i am tierd.

swimming against the TUC tide i would like to shower aviva plc with praise for this lovely glossary on its website. i wish i had read it before i were in the position i am now of knowing the majoity of the chat. my dear brother knows that i dont think it is a fair fight when the unions talk of a strike, but he has told me of the joys of the lockout, which sound like a source of fleeting, if rather spiteful, respite for the c-level in times of strife.

well, this round of exams is done and i am pleased about that at least. lots of volatility in futures on my adress - i will keep you abrest of developments. petey says that working on websites is a shower*, but i wonder if this one is going to work ok well?

*this link makes no sense at all to me. it is like am obscene idea for a collabo between late period hayao and captain beefheart.

much as i fear boring my readership (hi there, it is only you left), i must again recommend a carol reed film which i saw today (with a script written by graham greene), but our man in havanna differs so radically from the third man and the fallen idol as to warrent a comment here. the film is very funny indeed, with a ten minute cottaging gag played out by noel coward and alec guiness (amoungst others) particularly of note for a film which appeared in 1959, when gay sex would still be illegal for 8 years. i think you can still catch it at the nft.

i have been reading this nostalgic nonsense, and if like me you had the please of "being there" you will hopefully laugh untill the tears wet you collar as mine have. sorry to everyone else for wasting your time. if anyone can contact tom ward they should direct him thither.

ho! pah! chah! i am very bored. i should like to go for a walk and smoke a pungent cigar and speak in monosylables and not care if anyone can understand me.

feels like it has been a long weekend in the office pretending that i am doing a timed papers but sneakily going for a short walk around my desk or getting a glass of water to free my mind from the problem at hand. mind you, i must have been working pretty hard lately, as i havent been to the nft for almost three weeks.

last night i went to a 70s themed dinner party, and on my way i walked across the city of london as dusk dissolved into black night. my path took me past the lloyds building and 30 st mary's axe. i though of some budgie type cartoon where the gerkin sprouts mustaches and bellows down to the lloyds builing, in the guise of a swiss walrus, about lax solvency standards.

i fear that i am rather imasculated just now - a feminist too far - i have disavowed with lies my manly predilictions. behind my frail partition, i bathe and drink tea and study like a girl (as poor old worker matt would doubtless point out if he were near enough to observe my texts and my agitation). but then in a moment i am cheered. i actually dislike this betjemin foist upon my idling self in the afternoons. i only like the jolly one.