They only do it in the movies....

Good afternoon. I just scanned over a handful of pages full of scribbled lyrics in my songbook. Writings of the past week that have just surfaced from the depths of my little bedroom during a tidying spree. I just started on a new tune, about Romance being dead. I ain't 'alf a miserable git at the moment! I don't normally think that. That it's dead. Iv'e had my share of dissapointments but I still like to think I'm a bit of a romantic at heart, and this week just aint suiting me man....

In the afternoon when I don't have to go out I've started watching those dodgy old romantic English movies, and oh I love em I do. You know, the ones where the beautiful woman always has this amazing attentive husband called Geoffrey or Harry or summit equally silly and she lives in this great big wonderful country house and all she has to do all day is swan about in these lovely little dresses with matching shoes and rosy pink cheeks and lips and perfect curly waves in her hair which must have taken four hours to set and she wears a superb fitting bodice under all her clothes and she has a beautiful staircase to flounce up when she's upset and swoon down when she's feeling saucy and every oversized window which always has a view to the woods or the sea is never closed so it must be warm there is decorated with long sheer flowing curtains, and she stands there looking fabulous and occasionally she cries because she loves someone so and Geoffery's not there much because he's all masculine and goes out and works or sits in his study smoking and sometimes he takes her for drives up mountains in his flash old motor and they go to see their charming friends or visit the seaside and they go to these dances and she wears these great big party gowns that would take months and cost fortunes to make and everything is all so terribly civilised and they lie in the grass and she whispers "Oh Geoffery, Geoffery darling, I do love you so" and then they kiss passiontely and then it starts raining gently and they run off laughing together. And then sometimes the husband drowns (hahaaaa) in a terrible tradgedy or has to go away but he loves her and he misses her so much and its all such a drama but she still looks lovely and okay okay I don't know anyone that lives or would want to live like that anymore but it's pretty damned sweet innit?

It effing well is when you are sitting here on your tod with the grumps too scared to watch the news for fear of more misery reports and the cat is squawking persistently for more food which she ain't getting and youv'e just been down Harrow Road in the rain in a scruffy tracksuit so you fit in and don't get shouted at by any angry chavs and youve sat on the bus for half an hour while some stupid driver insists on having some disagreeable kids chucked off it and then youve come home to some dopey old cow with a peg on her nose from British Gas on the phone threatening you with bailiffs even though you paid all your bloody bills. GRRRRRRRR!

I'm off to rehearse in a bit with the band. So, I shall be back refreshed later ce soir. Off for a snooze. Happy Tuesday afternoon to you all. I hope you are doing something romantic. If you arent then plan to. Go on.... XXXX