Jesus, I really need to get in more. Girl dates London from the excellent and updated every ten minutes Girl Dates London has slapped me on my virtual back and yelled 'Tag, no returns!' or something, and expects me to come up with seven things I approve of.
Currently, I can't think of one. But here we go nonetheless, making it up as I go along - so forgive me when one rambling, ill-conceived thought leads violently obviously to the next...
One ~ Late Friday afternoons. I've used this self-same gem in another tag (my favourite F's), and it's pretty unbeatable. Saturday is fine, but it's only a day away from Sunday, plus if you're anything like me, you'll have done nothing all Saturday and will be bored shitless when you traipse out guiltily come the evening. A late Friday afternoon however, is rather splendid; Work's nearly over, there's all that weekend in front of you, and there's a certain electricity in the air, unlike Gaza at the moment.
Two ~ Music. It simply can't be beaten in the 'Reaching Inside Our Souls and Plucking Us In The Emotional Orifice' stakes. I've written countless volumes of crap, from this vaguely readable blog to less impressive attempts at scripts and novels, and none of them can provoke such strong feelings of joy or sadness or empathy as a simple Beatles tune in such a quick period of time. And music is so varied too. House music, Rock, Rap, Easy Listening, Classical, even their modern counterpart, the film score. All brilliant. As Gottfried Leibniz said in his famous work Nouveaux essais sur l'entendement humain, 'Music is the bollocks' (which I think is also the name of a progressive house track by Danny Tenaglia.)
Three ~ Exercise. An inverse poisoned chalice, if you will. I hate exercise. It's rubbish. In today's age of well-practised laziness, exercise is a modern-day necessity to remind us that humans have to run on a treadmill in the absence of having to hunt anything anymore. Yet in order to reverse all that crap cheap food we (ok, I) keep eating, exercise must be done. And you know what? Do it, and you feel strangely good (afterwards).
Four ~ Food, mounds and mounds of bloody food, healthy and nutritional or, even better for the old guilt-glands, plain shit and fattening. I perpetually have the food horn. Plus food looks good and it never tells me to sod off and go harass another plate of food instead.
Count alcohol in this too. Alcohol is a food.
Five ~ Chums. Largely all cunts bar none (in my case), and not even there for you when you need them most (all the time, in my case), yet thoroughly bloody decent coves now and again - Cue fond memories in my head to a wistful accompaniment of Simon and Garfunkel. Happy days.
Six ~ Youth. Fucking amazing and yes, totally wasted on me when I was a youth, because I was totally wasted and unappreciative of the fact that a) my knees worked, b) I only had to jog up the stairs to lose a stone and, c) I was sooo much more employable aged 22 than I currently am at 33. Plus that was as good as I would ever fucking look, and I had strong firm abs too, from March 1993 to a bit later on in March 1993.
If only we could all be born aged 80 and live our lives in reverse. Now that would make life worth living. (Apart from the sight of all those foetuses giving birth to pensioners. That's just odd.)
Of course, I approve of the concept of Youth, and not youths themselves. Too late have I learnt that youth is utterly wasted on those twat-witteried fucksters with their ignorance and stupid fucking opinions and posturing and shit music and OH MY GOD I'VE BECOME MY DAD.
Seven ~ Life. I suppose it's pretty good, what with all of us being alive now, and stuff n' that, and being conscious, sentient human beings. It could be better, of course, but it's head and shoulders over the alternative; not life, which I would have to admit would be rather shit.
So that's that. I hereby take this tag and wait with trembling anticipation of what could be (no response), from the thoughts of, in no particular order, Peach and Vi and Han and Bitch and Nothing Man and Quote and Girl and Z and Will and Tokyo.
Right, I'm off for a wank.
Oh, I've just thought of a number Eight.