23 August 2005

Free Drinking Radical

Oh a spare moment. Late afternoon, chained to a desk - a shameful admission for somebody purporting to be a free thinking radical - there you are...even I have to earn a crust occasionally.
Spent a lovely weekend in the Cotswolds at the country retreat of a successful musician. There are some. I expect you can guess which one. I only know one who could afford more than two weeks in a rusty caravan in the Cotswolds. So there you have it. What record sales can actually achieve.
Had some of you been quicker to part with your cash for 'Half Awake', I might be lookin for a lil' place down that way myself. Still chained to the Kilburn fortress, which is even more secure with it's tasteful new UPVC front door. I can dream and plot. Obviously wealth for wealth's sake is a fairly vacuous concept, but waking up each morning to a view of gently rolling hills and the sound of a heaving bank account, filled by prancing round on stage a bit for a while, is something I'd entertain. 'If I was a rich man da da da da da' Topol I believe.
Any way, must dash. The factory whistle is about to blow, and I mustn't work for the man for a second more than necessary. In a very Lionel Bart way, I shall dance out of the office, waving a hanky, and kissing the lady market traders, juggling fruit and whistling all the way home.
Ta ta me Cokney Sparras

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