well... i guess some people will always want to know more... but don't forget what happened to the cat who got curious... he got dead, quicksmart... but here's some stuff i like... and if you're lucky, i might eventually put on a page of stuff i (shock horror) hate...

number one... cloud watching... clouds are glorious... humbling... cloud watching is also easy... excellent for talking to yourself about... i once found myself considering the clouds as nature's punk element, for their 'give a shit' attitude...

number two... smoking... cigarettes make any moment special... whenever, wherever... especially at night out of my window, while pissed old men stagger home... the adult equivalent of blowing soap bubbles... which i still do also... smoking goes especially well with cloud watching (see above)...

number three... making things... making anythings... sticking things together... rubbing things in other things... breaking things... mixing things... squeezing things... twisting things... generally, turning things into other things... some call it art...

number four... vinyl, records, long players, 12 inches... music is all about spinning black circles... it's all about going to dimly lit, basement level shops that smell of stale roll-ups, stacked to the brim with scuffed old records, which you have to spend hours trawling through, knowing that though you usually go home empty-handed or you end up buying a crappy eighties disco twelve purely for the sake of having achieved something, sometimes you find something glorious, and you run home and you can't wait to pull it out and put it on and wipe the dust off and put on the stylus and hear the crackle... cds+mds=stds...

number five... drinking coffee and watching saturday morning television while everyone else is still asleep... except they've replaced 'the incredible hulk' with 'night rider', which isn't as good...

number six... signing guestbooks... this is my latest habit... just spreading love and that... i'm beginning to understand what a fine art it is... annonyingly, i write about my self far more readily in other peoples guestbooks than i do here...

number seven... pretending to read on trains, while actually staring at the other passengers... i tend to invent exciting scenarios involving these anonymous types... usually hitchcockian murder mysteries, including flashbacks to freudian childhood experiences...

number eight... driving recklessly round corners... if you've ever done, you'll understand...

number nine... number nine... number nine... number nine... number nine... number nine... (if you understand raise your hand)... number ten... singing to myself... especially 'the beach boys', with all those damned lush harmonies... "(high) we could be married, (low) we could be merry, (high) and then we'd be happy, (low)and then we'd be happy, (all together now) oh wouldn't it be nice..."...

number eleven... walking around aimlessly alone in london... watching people... innocent voyeurism... i suppose this should go with the train one...

more will come... you've just got to wait.