Evening Primrose

Why is it so many plants and flowers that are used for toiletries sound like they are greeting old ladies? Evening Primrose! Aloe Vera! Ok, so its only those two. But still, that’s more than most other things sound like they are speaking specifically to elderly women in a pleasant fashion. Maybe we should call for a change to all plant items helpful in bathroom situations to have a similar title? Tee Tree Bertie? Pot Pourri Doreen? Hmm. Doesn’t really work. Maybe that’s why Aloe Vera and Evening Primrose cornered the market. Well that’s the extent of my thinking for today then. I woke up with all the intention of doing a lot of things but then, my plan was hugely flawed. Who flawed it? Was it my arch nemises Diernan Touieb? Or my other arch nemeses Nanreit Beiuod? No, it was me. I decided ‘screw this’ and went back to bed. I may as well have sentenced my day to an arc of non-productivity as since I have reawoken its already made two of my aims now useless and instead I have pondered about stupid old lady plant names. Stupid brain.

Had a lovely gig last night, again. The problem with this is that I decide that its lovely and easy and therefore don’t try any new material or do anything that challenges me in any way. Last night I just spent the entire time talking to some mental people from Ford and making terrible observations on ‘that’s why they are so focused’ etc etc. Ultimately, while they had much fun, none of them have realised that by being so lovely, they are not helping me at all. Please stop being selfish lovely audiences. Challenge a Douieb so I make an effort to actually try some Edinburgh stuff out instead of just squandering away all my old material to a point where saying it sends Groundhog Day like shivers down my spine and I get images of school children chanting ‘broken record’ at me. Which they wouldn’t. Ever. Not least because school children nowadays don’t know what a record is. In fact they can’t probably even remember the first generation iPod. And that’s why its our duty as caring adults to persuade them that the first generation iPod was the size of a telephone box and could only hold 3 songs which once entered, could never be changed. We will then explain that portable Cd players and Walkmans before them were the size of Wales and people were physically unable to carry them anywhere and just had to walk around them with an exceedingly long headphones cable.

Morning Lemon? No. No, those are the only two. Must. Do. Other. Stuff. With. My. Day. Argh.

Oh and we now have an Edinburgh flat, thanks to the very hard work of Messers Daniel Taylor and Missus Nat Luurtsema. Whoop! Thanks to all those who offered cardboard boxes.