28 March 2010

I wrote this poem for Bri bri some time ago:

It's called: I've drawn you up a man. And it goes:


I've drawn you up a man.
He's ethereal enough because
You only want to grasp him sometimes.

He wears spectacles to note
the details of your interests closely.
Has strong arms to grasp you back.

You like his fiery hair because
In some intransigent moment
The reminder of your own fierceness reflects from it.

And on that rare occasion,
when you want to sigh like
The delicate blossom and fold into something strong ...

You want him there.

And with the rest of the time
Hang him! Might just as well
Do it "By myself, if you please..."

We were drinking champagne and eating Percy Pigs in Green Park when I wrote it. I'm off animal products now but at the time it didn't actually strike me as odd that the things were made of pigs (gelatine / pork by-products or mashed up pigs bits or something) and were in the shape of pigs. No trying to hide the source of the product. Awful things, really, now that I think about it. Why would I want that in my body? We don't really think these things through, do we?

I saw an advertisement today whilst I was reading some article on the Guardian website. This ad was by Greenpeace and they were disseminating the fact that Nestle is desecrating Orang-Utan habitat in order to gather palm oil. I happened to click on the link, thinking of how I already had a bit of a gripe with Nestle for being GM supporters in a big way and not on the basis that they wanted to feed Africa which I would accept as an argument if it were posed (but only as an argument). Well, don't click on the link if you find yourself posed with the same option as I was! There's an awful, unnecessarily awful, scene where a man chews on some poor primate's finger that he's pulled out of the Kit Kat wrapper. It's offensive! I know that's the point, but really, Greenpeace, no shame. Always so shocking.

A friend of mine told me that she was walking down the street one day and a Greenpeace clipboard man (you know the one) called after her about signing up as a member. She didn't have the time. He called her some awful name.

Now I remember. It was Penny. He said that it was indicative of her intelligence in some way. I can't recall. But, boy did he choose the wrong woman to insult that day. I wouldn't try one on her any day actually. She's a scary woman. Needless to say, she devastated him with her retort. Ask her to tell you the story. My reporting skills are lacking.

Oh, Greenpeace. You silly children.

I was watching Cadillac Records again last night. I just adore that Little Walter song... what is it... Something like "My babe don't stand no cheating"... argh! How extremely sexy! But the point of this little tangent is that we followed it with another biopic, this one was the Joachim Phoenix, Johnny Cash. (Didn't he love her so terrifically fiercely? Sigh.) Do you find yourself saying "Oh, Johnny... no. What are you thinking..." a lot of the time whilst watching it?

It engenders that same disappointment in me that I have when I watch monkey-finger-Kit-Kat eating. But, I don't think that any of us should be buying Nestle products regardless of how Greenpeace has approached their campaign.

Last night, I also rediscovered my self-saucing Chocolate Pudding recipe. You know the one. Not because I've made it for you, but because someone has, if you haven't made it yourself. It's a classic. Oh, it was so good I had two helpings! I knew I would want two helpings so I skipped dinner in anticipation. Despicable, despicable behaviour.

Hey, hey, now. I've been running everyday since the hypnotist. I'll work it off - eventually. At least it's not Percy Pigs! I know what's going in that pudding; I put it all in there myself! No shitty preservatives, that's for sure. Today, I bought a pre-made pasta sauce. Normally these are jam-packed with preservatives and acidity regulators and other unknowns. Not this one. It's a Jamie Oliver product and it has nothing in it but vegetables. I haven't tried it yet, but knowing him, I'll probably be able to recommend it to you.

Isn't he looking more and more like a potato? I think it's quite natural to resemble root vegetables moreso the older you get.

I'm listening to the Crayon Fields. Chloe recommended that I go and see them when they were over this side of the world last year. It was a little basement bar just next to Islington tube. That night was well good.

I've spent the day, though, listening to The Clash. I must have about four albums so it was a bit like my Rolling Stones marathons that I run periodically. But I didn't just sit here listening and not accomplishing. I was going to go to the Chocolate Festival at Southbank. And I know I mentioned the V&A. But instead, I sat here, at my laptop, wrapped in a blanket, and pumped out about five more scenes of my first screenplay!

Loves it. I know you will too. It's tres funny. But right now, instead of writing that, I'm writing this and I'm trying to fathom how I could produce a poem in which Jamie reminds himself so much of a potato that he can't help but salt himself and eat himself all up until he's just a lone head sitting at his outdoor pizza oven which he can no longer use because he's eaten his hands clean off.

Best to resemble a broccoli, then. Beets are my favourite food in the whole world. I'd be very disappointed if I resembled one though.