Due to the paucity of posts of late, I thought I'd document a day in my life in minute detail. I had no idea it would happen like this. But that's life I guess...
(With insincere apologies to Ian McEwan.)
8.51am Wake up, go to toilet and fill empty water bottle.
9am Ponder why I’m unable to lie in any more. I used to be able to sleep for hours and hours. Get annoyed about this.
9.20am Sit up and start reading the next chapter of James Robinson’s The Gospel of Gideon Mack. At the moment this vicar – who is about to go mad after meeting Satan – is talking about long-distance running. I used to run a lot when I was 17, 18, 19. But no more.
9.40am Decide to go for run. Make necessary preparations.
9.45am Walk out the door of the flat and start stretching. Go outside and start running towards Clapham High Street. I'm running! I aim for the Common, but I'm pretty knackered by the time I get there. I run across the Common, go into the library and look through the books. I think it’s just an excuse to have a rest. I walk up the high street then hop on an empty bus which carries me back towards Stockwell.
10.30am Get back. Drink lots of Orange juice. Have shower. Get dressed. Feel quite empowered thanks to the run – like I can have a genuinely productive day. Wow!
11.05am Flick TV on. Music videos are playing on E4. I don't normally watch music videos, but The Smiths' There is a Light that Never Goes Out is playing. Lots of shots of Morrissey and Morrissey look-alikes riding bikes through Salford.
11.10am Make tea and beans on toast.
11.20am Stick on Bob Dylan DVD. Watch it eating beans on toast. Things Have Changed video is fab. It nicely intercuts shots of Dylan singing with scenes from the Wonderboys film, making it look like he's turning into Michael Douglas's character and back. It nicely sums up the role of the artist - both living a life but also outside of life commenting on it. Another great thing about the video: Bob tries to 'do facial expressions'.
11.31am Phone rings. A foreign lady says "Good morning." Pause while I wait for the sell. Realise I'm expected to say 'good morning' before this can proceed. "Good morning," I say. She's trying to get hold of someone whose name I will never be able to spell. Something like, "Mr Dhordonashyenaleandethon". Wrong number, I say and hang up.
11.33am Phone rings again. The woman is crazy! "Who is this? This is the number they give me to ring." We try to work things out, but her poor grasp of English means we don’t really get anywhere. I start to get annoyed that she doesn’t seem to believe I’m not harbouring this Dhordonashyenaleandethon character. "I'm afraid you're going to have to sort this out for yourself," I say. She doesn’t understand. "Goodbye," I say emphatically, and hang up.
11.38am Phone rings again. I wonder whether to answer it. I decide not to.
11.39am I give in and answer it. "I want to speak to Tony."
"There's no Tony here!" I say.
"No! Wrong number!"
"Okay," she says in a resigned voice.
11.51am Watch more music videos. Radiohead’s Just. Radiohead playing guitars! Those were the days. Then Work It by Missy Elliot - "It's yr fribaderba yep yep".
12.05pm Hear the key in the door. Jamie is back from a night in Glasgow. Work flew him up there to go drinking with XFM people. No, I don't know how he does it either.
12.07pm Try to finish off this review I’m writing. It’s 400 words about the new album by an obscure ambient electronica duo called Infantjoy. Not particularly easy to write.
1.15pm Dan arrives at the flat – we're going to see Onto the Streets, an exhibition of contemporary London street photography in Brixton. Apparently there's a house party later in Marylebone, which I have inexplicably not been invited to.
1.30pm Me, Jamie and Dan leave the house to go to Photofusion ("London's largest independent photography resource centre"). The exhibition is great - particularly the pictures by Nick Turpin and Matt Stuart - but small. We're only there for about 10 minutes. What now? I unwisely suggest the pub.
2.20pm We go to Living and get some beers in. No one has change, so we have to do rounds. Jollity ensues. For three hours.
5.25pm Get to Circle bar to watch England v Andorra. We meet Badger who's annoyed because we're late. He tells us about a recent holiday where missed a flight and had to spend 15 hours at the airport. To survive, he got wrecked on vodka and because of a lack of space, ended up trying to sleep on an air hockey table, loading it up with pound coins because he thought it would be more comfortable with air blowing out the holes. Badger is in the anecdotal zone. Later, Dan to Badger: "So you're onstage in Moulin Rouge getting off with a girl? Shut up! Shut up!"
6.35pm England are winning 5-0. I leave Circle bar and get the tube to Charing Cross. Wow, I'm quite drunk. That's what happens when you drink on an empty stomach, apparently. I'll never learn.
7.05pm Get to Fire and Stone trendy pizza restaurant – we're celebrating Macca's last day in London (he's moving to Bristol). Macca knows I'm pished, so introduces me to people quickly and ushers me away from them so I don't say anything that'll offend them or embarrass him. The restaurant serves pizzas all named after different places in the world. I order a Peking. Service is slow. Spend most of the time talking to someone called Julia about myself. Poor girl.
10.15pm We all split the bill. Ian is livid. "Twenty-three quid for a pizza and a glass of wine?" he rages. I knew this would happen. That's why I had a starter.
10.30pm We walk to Soho and go to a barclub called Lupos. The promised lashings of Bon Jovi are not forthcoming. But the shots of sambuca are. Now I'm really drunk. I tell Macca's brother's girlfriend that I own the single I Like to Move It Move It by Real 2 Real featuring the Mad Stuntman on cassette. She is well impressed. The music begins to get cheesier.
12.58am The DJ plays Johnny B Goode. I phone Dan and yell down the phone "Chuck? Chuck! This is Marvin! Your cousin? Marvin Berry? You know that new sound you’re looking for? Well listen to this!"
1am Most of the group have left, and it’s all gone a bit coupley. Me and Hugh Dennis lookalike James stand at the bar smoking Lucky Strikes. I leave, hoping to head up to Marylebone for a house party. Phone Dan, but he says the party's over. Doh.
1.02am Start drunken dialling while walking down Oxford Street. Phone Sarah, Kearns, Sharma, Birdy and Jamie. None pick up.
1.12am Birdy phones back from a noisy club and yells, "Will! I’m in Po Na Na! In Brighton! Will! I can't hear you! Goodbye!"
1.40am Text from Jamie. "We're back at the flat, have booze & poppers. Expect mess."
2am I get home. I stagger into the kitchen and see Jamie and Eddie and two girls I don't know. Jack Daniels is being drunk and poppers sniffed. I talk shit for about an hour, and lurch around.
3.15am I've sobered up a bit now, though all is relative. Go into the lounge and play the guitar while Run Lola Run plays on the TV. As I watch the flame-haired German running through city streets, I realise that I was doing the same thing 18 hours earlier.
4.02am I say my goodnights to the kitchen revellers, who're trying to work out how to get home. I go to bed.