December 4th, 2004


Beyond the Hoover

Kilroy-Silk Attacked With Slurry
There's a headline
sure to highlight any day. Stick! Damn you!

Mira Sorvino
Or is it Mena Suvari? There should be a law against this sort of Celebrity Scrabble consonant swapping.

I was reading an article in yesterday's Guardian about crunk as genre. I'm unconvinced, I much prefer grime. More inventive, more female, more feisty and more local. Buy British! Anyway, as I was reminded yesterday when buying CDs, there's nothing new in this music game. I have in my hand a tune entitled Krunk written by the Armenian composer Komitas Vartabed (1869-1935). Armenian robes are infinitely more bad ass than (yawn!) sportswear, although trackies are easier for your mum to wash.

Full Circle
I was listening to the other purchases last night (On The Shore by The Trees, a Steeleye Span greatest hits [I blame Momus for posting Gaudete earlier in the week in that regard and the one song I did want, Blackleg Miner, is in an awful banjo-free live version from the late 80s. It was only £3.99...] and one of Masaki Batoh) and realised that it has taken 25 years or so for me to almost be back at the point at which I might just go out and buy a Jethro Tull album. Something is quite wrong in the state of Denmark, I suspect.

Coffee Fix
I went and bought a Bialetti. Although I have been won over to the ibrik since the addition of cardamom pods.

It is a morning for household chores. So stop prevaricating!