A Long Wait

Welcome back fans!, Oh sorry, you're right, its me that’s not been here. Yes I apologise for leaving you a whole week without a new, action packed episode of this, the literary classic that you crave. I'm not sure what’s more tragic? Is it that I actually write this stuff, or is it that you actually read it? Anyway, I'm digressing...

Get your self a cup of tea, sit back and have a rest. This could be a long blog.

The last seven days have been busy and tiring. I'm thinking of cloning a double so I can have more time to muse in the bath while my doppelganger could go out and about, working, partying and generally wearing itself out. Is cloning allowed yet? Has science made it into the mainstream? Can I keep the cloning vat in the back garden? Would it need planning regulations? Does it smell funny and what colour would it be?

More importantly would The Gardener Mk1.0 clone have my taste in style, drinks and ladies? If you think about it, that could be the real industry killer for cloning. I shall go to the next cloning debate and shout from the public gallery "You can keep your complex ethical and moral questions mate, what we really want to know is whether they will it be exactly like you or will it have their own mind?" For instance I can just imagine coming home whistling a jaunty tune and looking forward to donning a silk dressing gown, twiddling the stereo to something ambient with a Sidecar in hand and leaning back whilst a selection of beautiful masseurs dressed only in small amounts of exotic finery gently rub essential oils into my tired feet and kiss each others ears whilst serving delightful canapés and instead finding that TGMk1 has filled the house with his chav mates from the estate drinking cans of Kronenburg, wearing 'sports' clothes and shouting "geddermoff" at Men and Motors. Hmmm..These are important issues, I shall do some research. On second thoughts I think I should work harder towards me coming home to the currently imaginary masseurs whilst whistling the jaunty tune. I know I'll use the cloning vat to make wine instead...


Uber Geeks and Cognac

Last Wednesday found me and The Duke at Dorkbot London This is a monthly meeting of assorted phreaks, electronics experts, net heads and people that I noted seemed to have something in common. They all either had far to much hair, or hardly any at all. It was held in what I shall call an 'urban barn' near Brick Lane. This building was mostly held together by pigeon droppings, cobwebs and corrugated iron. God knows where the electricity was being generated from. I surmised that perhaps these uber geeks were powering it through shared cagoule rubbing. Anyway, it was quite fun and the subsidised bar which was basically a man, a trestle table and some boxes of very credible Pilsner Urquell only charged £1 a bottle. Yes! Its true! I have found a bar that sells beer at cheaper than cost. I know where I’m going next time I need stock for a party. For a while we watched a nice but nervous lady waffle on about art and shared electronic studio space as the audience rustled their cagoules or creaked their leather jackets whilst eyeing her with anticipation. She eventually stuttered to a stop and the next speaker came on, literary. I say literally because the speaker was in fact a speaker. Yes that type of speaker, the one that normally sits in a cabinet and allows you to waggle your feet to your favourite tunes. The speaker sat there whilst a man with a beard, who I think was American waved bits of metal near it so that it made funny sounds. Both tribes of audience member seemed to like this. The South Park alike anorak wearers and the Gothy orcs crossed with Edward Scisserhands wunderkids smiled or grunted dependant on their evolutionary quirks.

The Duke and I moved on. As we walked we noted that bizarrely (at least to us) there had been a handful of spectacular women there. "So its true that some women find brains attractive?" I said. The Duke sagely shook his head and said "Some of us have just got to work with what we’ve got son. Get used to it"

We popped around the corner to Lounge Lover This cocktail bar, restaurant thing is very flash and very expensive. I agree its eclectically decorated and has nice pieces of furniture but I am going to surprise a lot of people when I say I thought it over rated. Ok so the decor cost lots, but if you covered it all with a fat layer of dust you might think it was Steptoe and Sons house (without the skeleton admittedly) I also think its a bit rich to get charged a 12.5% (or was it 15%?) service charge to be served at the bar, especially when the drinks are around the £8 mark anyway. The one good point here was our barman 'Simon Sheema' who does deserve credit for being expert, witty and inventive in his approach. For instance whilst we were there he was mixing up a Cognac and cream based cocktail of his own invention that used the herb rosemary. He called it a Mrs Robinson and I would think that a few of those could leave any young graduate corruptible. I'll stick my neck out and give this bar a year to live. Simon the barman should go much farther though.

As we left after a Mojito and a Sidecar each I began to think that eating earlier might have been a good idea. The Duke had sensibly munched though an oversize Upper Crust baguette on the way to Dorkbot.

I wanted to go home but accidentally ended up at Corney and Barrow Broadgate again at someone’s leaving do.

My evening ended at half eleven in the always reliable and always horrible Mcdonalds. Ah well when you need to eat you need to eat. The Duke ate again.

When I got home he texted me proudly to say that his flatmate had cooked dinner and left his in the oven. He'd eaten that to!. I’m thinking of re-titling him as ‘Three Dinner Duke’. I don't know where he puts it? Note to self: Research Tape Worms as I think he must have one?

This view was further strengthened after he got drunk at my house on Friday night and finished the evening by alarmingly cooking, then eating the entire contents of my fridge. If you ever fancy a huge plate of Pizza followed by Beef Tortellini, sausages, mash, ratatouille, tomatoes, new potatoes strawberries, beetroot and pickled onions (yes all, sickeningly piled, steaming on the same plate) Then you know who to call. I took one look at my Desperate Dan sized portion and felt sick. You wouldn’t believe it but he’s hardly a fat chap.

I went queasily back to drinking instead. He polished off the lot.

Flowery Chocolate Silk Things

The rest of the weekend passed swimmingly with the lovely Slinx. Roses (the flowers) Chocolates (from Paris) Champagne (from Oddbins) and Knickers (for her, not me) all added up to a very lovely time.

Save The Routemaster!!

I have known for a while that Ken the Mayor Livingston has wanted to hatchet the beautiful, functional and iconic 'proper' hop on-hop off Routmaster London Bus. and I had noticed the huge bendy, stupid monolithic cattle trucks trying to struggle around corners in the center of Town but I didn’t realise that all of the Routmasters were to be axed!. Yes that’s right all of them. I know they’re not that clean and that the old and disabled can't clamber on to them well, if at all, but that’s surely not the whole point? They are a part of the fabric of this great city and I love them. I love the noise they make whilst idling at the traffic lights and the roar they make whilst they are accelerating. Also they have conductors, some of which can be proper characters. I fondly remember a conductor on the No 38 who used to sing Motown classics on a summers morning. He was so good everybody loved it. That was a few years ago now. I seem to recall he actually got signed for a record deal in the end.

So, they say that by next June all of them will be gone, leaving us all the poorer. Join me and campaign against it. Kick up a stink, write or email your MP. Better still start a street leafleting campaign and organise some marches!

Take to the streets and join the revolution! Alternatively email me and agree.

Until next time sweet things...

thegardener1969@msn.com