Friday 25th February

Never one to let an ethereal fad pass by, I thought this Friday would be a good day to launch my stream of consciusness and spelling frailties onto the uninterested world. Inspired by friend Ed, out in the widths of Central Asia who is as I write treading the dusty alleyways of Kabul, sleeping under the stars and smoking hookahs with fierce bandit types, I thought my own exotic narrative - a unique perspective on life in teh outer reaches of East London could not really go unrelated.

So as I woke up this morning at the unholy hour of 5, cursing the treacheries of my hypothalamus after a week of night shifts, my mind's eye anticipated the journey through the suburban sterrts to Tesco. Inwardly I graoned but the thought of a flaky croissant spurred me on. Soon I was out, wrapped tight against the grey air with its soggy snowflakes, vigilant for partially frozen dog shit concealed under "Chomp" wrappers and other litter along my way. The woman infront of me in the checkout bought six bottles of Soave, some cheap vodka (Tesco sadly seem no longer to do their range of cheap booze, labelled VODKA, and GIN etc in honest black letters on a plain white label), two bunches of crysanthemums, and a litre of milk that's suppoesd to lower your cholesterol levels. This depressed me, but i was soon cheered up by a read of the Daily Mail, in particular the story of the citizens of some Cornwall village who have recemtly become propagators of racial hatred in the annual celebration of 'Darkie Day', which seemed to inolve dressing up in breeches and white shirts, bashing and wheezing traditional british instrumnets in a bucolic sort of parade, with of course their faces painted black. Most amusing was the way in which, having had their pleas for a police presence at the festival ignored for years on account of the low crime rate, this year four riot-vanloads of earnest young anti-racialist police were sent in to monitor what was now a festival of crime, with musical accompaniment. Fortunately the situation did not get out of hand, and there were no incidents of policemen truncheoning innocent black people at the festival. But I digress, as that is way out West and here in the East life coniues waxing exotic. Later today Iwill go further afield than my local high street and attempt to find something for my girlfrient to sleep on tonght.
Next week: what is not happening in my village.