Our Tonka at Ninety March 28, 2016 09:54
I almost didn't write today's post last night because I was all settled down to watch that creepy ITV programme, Our Queen at Ninety. However, after the first five seconds of the opening credits I remembered that I grew up on the Yew Tree Estate in Walsall and I fucking hate the royal family. It was then that I decided to pop upstairs to the office and write about dance music for Hotflush Recordings.
I did write up a tearful farewell, an obituary-style post about #12WeeksOfTechno, but then I remembered that I grew up on the Yew Tree Estate in Walsall and we don't fucking well do tears and pussy clart ting like dat on the YETI and I deleted it all. After that, I remembered that I now live in London where we ARE encouraged to search our feelings and live mature, human, metropolitan lives and I tried, unsuccessfully, to type it all up again, word for word.
Fuck me, this is a proper weird post today. I think it's the lack of 12 Weeks of Techno. I haven't got a fucking clue where my muse is moored anymore. She'll come, I'm sure. I just need to keep writing every day and a sense of purpose will reveal itself again. Know what I mean?
I pitched a Super Hans idea to The Guardian Guide last night when everyone else was watching Our Queen at Ninety. If they pick it up, I'll be gladder than a member of the royal family when they come of age and realise that they don't have to do fuck all for a living. Ever.