Deathtime...

..makes Karl a sad boy. Not that I am sad, I just want more before the deathtime. At the moment I've been couped up in my den for two solid days trying to kick the cold by keeping warm. So far it seems to be working. Tomorrow, I plan to be back in full production at the factory, by the grindstone, in salt mines or at office among the suited clones, in order to do my utmost for customers, shareholders and coworkers.

But being couped up has one advantage and that is that you can read some books. I've been reading a few by Kinky Friedman, and they bring out a loud laugh or two. "I picked up a blue bic lighter that had been with the family for 12 hours and carefully lit..". Another one, come to think of advantages, is that you can philosophise and ponder life in general. Nothing major has happend in my low life, pardon the pun, since Anita left for Oz about six months ago. We parted as the best of friends with both of us pretty much wanting more, but the puppet master simply followed the script of another boring tragedy. For a change I did not wail like a cat at midnight, though. That's always something, I guess, the questions is only of what.

Anyway, I think that I need another challenge in my life, and I am going to pick one and it's most likely will involve a move. Therefore I gotta maximise the rest of my time left on this island. After Morocco (just a week left till I go surfin') I will go to Finland in May for a wedding, then Scotland in June for at least a week. Also, I want to get cracking with the promotion business. It'll be super cool if we can put some live acts on within a few months here in Oxfordia. Then of course I'll do some more reviews, eh. Stu sent me the list the other day, but it's damn difficult this month due to all the travelling. Especially if I go to Barcelona on the 25th to 29th of April (anyone there around this time, since I'll be by my lonesome?). Anys, tomorrow I'll go to the Jerry Springer musical, with some good folks from work. It's supposed to be cool fun, but then again, so was the yoyo.

Bad Mongo aka Sailorman aka KvH

Gonza, Zlatan looked as pretty as ever when biting the grass and loitering about on the pitch. Never outgunned, We are Arsenal! Dreams are made of this. Let's see if there are tix availble for I am ready to part with that precious metal often referred to as , yeah that's right Shylock, GOLD.