Monthly Archives: September 2013


I’ve enjoyed being 48. No, really enjoyed it. Maybe, hopefully, it’s truly middle aged, I wouldn’t mind living till 96. Fit and healthy and going out watching the Tiges or the cricket while patting a cat and chewing a ripe raspberry. Having bodysurfed.

As a kid, 48 Crash was always my favourite Suzi Quatro song; everyone else seemed to like the Rocky Horror style carnival of DevilGate Drive. Some of you cool kids will probably say you liked “Can the Can”, and that would be fine by me. 48 Crash, that crazy chorus, smash bash 48 crash.

Anyway, I made it here. And then I started to think about what comes next. And it hit me. 48 has the beautiful, simple integer thing happening. first digit half the second. look back, didn’t you enjoy 12, 24, 36? great years, great numbers.

you better enjoy it. it’s like Halley’s Comet. blink, gone. the next one to aim for is 510! then 612. and on and on.

no, better to enjoy 48, and then crash. silk sash bash. like a lightning flash. as Lene Lovich would say, oooh oooh, oooh oooh, my lucky number’s 48.



Anyone opening a Vietnamese restaurant? “Pho realism” for a title?

(where do insects go when they get sick? …. the waspital!)

The second time around…

I want to come back as a pelican

I’m not actually planning to die

But it’s never to late to start planning

And next time, I want to fly


I want to come back as a pelican

How cool do you think that would be?

Fishing, flying and sleeping

And waking up next to the sea


I want to come back as a pelican

Not now, not next week

You better get used to the idea

Of me sticking in my big beak


I want to come back as pelican

Not a dog, a cat or a horse

I want to come back as a pelican

A good looking, young one, of course


Yes, I want to come back as a pelican

That could almost make death worthwhile

So don’t get into a flap

If you see me with a fish head in my mouth

And splaying out my legs

With eyes like saucers

And retractable head

It’s just me, practising my pelican smile