BANK HOLIDAY HARRISON

This extra day of freedom has given me the time [minus the energy] to write another update. In the last few days I have learnt several pretty interesting nuggets of information worthy of a mention:

ONE] Never underestimate the coolness of parents. Forget all the bad dancing, double denim fashion faux pas

         and occasional exaggerated stories, they'll come up trumps for you when you least expect it. I learnt this

         last week after the most incredible gesture brought me to tears outside the dodgy looking computer shop

         near the co-op on Old Street. Lord knows this means years of baking, amazing presents and errands I

         almost certainly will offer to do years before they need to be done, but really, on a scale of 1 to irrelevant,

         I'd say my gestures are an 11 in comparison. The only cases in which you will ever be exempt from this

         are:

              a) if your parents are Liza Minelli and David Guest. [no child deserves this punishment] Or,  

              b) if your parents have given you a name like [I kid you not] Field or Ikea. [In fact in this case you

                  have absolute permission from [probably] everyone in the world to turn them in to the police or

                  something of equal punishment.]

I can't really add to this.

TWO] George Harrison of Beatles fame wrote a song called 'My Sweet Lord' containing the words 'Hare Krishna'

          and 'Hallelujah'. What? I know - pretty far out baby; but the most bizarre bit is that the single was an

          international number 1 hit in 1971. Whilst the sixties saw the world sweep into a haze of spiritualism and

          [mainly] acid, I for one am still shocked at the thought of Tom, Dick and Harry returning back from a hard

          days graft, running to the record player and frantically looking for their beloved Harrison LP, skipping all

          the words [because they can't figure them out] except 'Hare Krishna'. I had to give this song a go and oh

          dear, it's as though an elephant has its foot stuck on the repeat button in my head. It's not the greatest

          song ever written, but it is certainly a great pop song in the sense that is is annoyingly catchy with

          cheesy lyrics you're afraid to sing out loud on the bus. 

          You should absolutely not listen to this song however if:

              a) you are easily swayed by obvious subliminal messaging. [there's a lot of Hare Krishna chanting
                  and I wouldn't want to be responsible for a sudden surge in people shaving their heads and walking
                  up and down Oxford Street], or

              b) you're part of the Polyphonic spree. You don't need any further encouragement.

"This is me in India lol."

Now whip out those daisy chains and wave goodbye to the winter! Watch Hazza in action HERE

I'm currently in bed surrounded by duvets, green tea and paracetamol.
Maybe i'll learn something new in a few hours like the answer to the question  'How much daytime TV does it take to scare the living daylights out of a cold?'

SK