Spontaneous Prose

ST LUKE'S: Devotees of Jack Kerouac will no doubt be familiar axiom that the first word is best word. However devotees of Kerouac are also no doubt aware that first word is quite often not the best word. A fact that some of the less worthy volumes oeuvre attests. But the demands on my time, and computer access, are such that I'd much prefer to use the precious time to work on shitty little poems. So what I give you is often first word. Rarely best word. If you see spelling mistakes please don't hesitate to point them out.

I will finish blogging my trip to Paris and adding photos, if only for my own memories and vanity.

On another note though I thought I'd give you a quick rundown of what I got up to on the weekend.

Friday: Mick was down so we went to The Windwill to get drunk on cheep booze watching unsigned bands. All the bands were good though one of them played like they were auditioning for Top of the Pops which, given the tiny stage and the dingy venue, made them look like right wankers.

Saturday: Visited several art exhibitions including a Hunter S. Thompson's photos in Chelsea, Banksy in South Kensington and Anselm Kiefer at Green Park. For just £70,000 you can get an A3 size canvas that Banksy has stencilled on. For the same price you can get a nice Utrillo and a road the world holiday (twice).

Saturday night: Equus at the Gielgud Theatre featuring Harry Potter in the buff. Then a cheap as chips three course meal in Chinatown. The play was superb, the production design evocative and the acting convincing. There was only one problem. Star Richard Griffiths was ill and his understudy had to read from a copy of the play all night.

Sunday: Lunch in Brixton with Elerig and Libby and then Hot Fuzz at The Ritzy.

So that's it, a first word is best word account of my weekend. Sorry if it's crap but I'm off to see The Seven Samurai at the Barbican in a couple of hours and it's time I got back to work.