I have been fed spicey food, drank hoppy beer, snarfed hot pickles with smelly strong goats cheeses, roast duck mixed into creamy pasta sauce....

And then they complain when I go off.

But god, even I don't like sitting near me.

This has been a "More information than we actually wanted" announcement, from the British Flatulence Council.

How do you do it!

You sod.

You pick a year that is very complicated to write about (not fecking 1919 as you first suggested) 1991 was one of them "interesting" years.

Bugger.

sod.

This will take some thinking about and re visiting some very
sore memories.

but I like a challenge. Well sometimes.

Be back later.

Going for a medicinal bloody mary.

I pack my lungs full of smoke from the last cigarette in the packet and spin wildly around in my own head in the cold fresh night. My hand flaps for the door handle of the back door as the tobacco fires up the alcohol in my system and the cat looks at me from her furry curls on the kitchen floor and I wobble wildly in a flurry of intoxication.

I negotiate the complexity of eye to hand to door handle and brain to leg machinations and get through the door and back into the warm.

The cat is not impressed with my dancing on the tightrope of intoxication and total abandon. She is also not impressed by my dressing gown, the only garment I have been wearing for the last five or so hours flapping open. Well, what cat would be- I have no spikes on my penis.

I step over the bear trap gaping white and discarded underpants in front of the washing machine that the cat seems to be lording over and grasp the doorframe as my head shifts into some other far more disjointed reality, I find that doorframes are good for this - Its the wood, it's honest and un-drunk and speaks of sap long spent and used up in the service of man and his building ambitions. Mind you, I have met many a man in a bar late at night that could say he has given the same of his life to women.

I walk on legs that are apparently rented and come from a country where they apparently walk on the other side of the everywhere into the hall and try and remember what I am, where I came from, what the music is and where my lighter wants to be, as it has been giving me a strange look all day.

My bestest buddy in the world sidles out from behind a rustle of silk behind me and says:

"Oh for fucks sake Nick, stop trying to be a writer and go sit down and have a coffee and a vodka. Stop being so pretentious. Ya c*nt!"

So I try to climb the Himalayas of the shag pile carpet with my confused toes and seek out the sofa, which looks at me with deep dark eyes and cushions of lust and says "take me".

Bastard furniture.

So I succombe to its charms and fall, bounce, rebound and end up on the floor. happy.

A shadow falls over me.

Cheekbones and curves and dark hair and, oh what - an accusing pointy finger, but at least a smile too.

"You daft tit"

"Yep, Gisasnogden!"

"You charmer, get up and get me a drink and stop sitting there at the computer typing and pretending any of this actually happened. Why would anyone want to be Hunter Thompson anyway. He's dead,"

I is a tad hammerd so excuse the spelling.

What is your greatest fear?

That the vampire duck from the pond will sneak into my bedroom tonight and suck the life out of me. Well I wish someone would!

What is your earliest memory?

Blogged this before. A huge wall of fur passing in front of me. It was our dog "Tuna" and I was sat on my nappy in the garden. Tuna was not that big being a mongrel, but I was very yery small.

Aside from property what is the most expensive thing you bought?

Second hand Gibson Les Paul(S). I think the most I paid was £1299.00. Yep, I know.

What would your super power be?

To not be seen.

What part of your life would you go back and erase?

That episode with the nuns and the wet suits with the bums cut out and the bucket of soapy frogs and the video camera maybe.

Have you ever said "I love you" and not meant it?

NEVER.

What is the closest you've come to death?

Talking to OAP's at bus stops.

How would you like to be remembered?

As that old git that looks like Francis Rossi, got laid alot and had a right attitude problem. And didn't die.

What is the most important lesson life has taught you to date?

Never ever ever stick that in there again.

ahem.