Tuesday 17th of July, 2001
I'm going straight to hell, you know
Still in pain. I remember that I have painkillers. A courier arrives to collect the stuff for Tim at Scholastic about five minutes before it's ready, so he goes away again. I blag a lift from my father to deliver them and get CDRs at same time.
The flier for Up All Night arrives in the post. I make my own, which will allow me to put map on the back. I need all the help I can get.
Another lift to the post office where I post a copy of The Secret Agent's Dream to a friend in America. It's a sort of chaotic post office, very much the local sub-post office thing. I don't rememebr there being a cat, but there really ought to be. Post offices, like bookshops, ought to have cats. However they do not ask me to fill in a customs declaration form, and when I get home I find the Air Mail sticker attached to my trousers. So I'm doubtful that the package will get there soon if at all.
Discover the joys of Limewire, a gnutella client, now that Napster has been corporatised to nothingness. I immediately fill up my hard disc with bootleg mp3s. Although it feels like a Morally bad thing, I do get some rarities out of the deal, as well as being able to find things that people have recommended to me – Bebel Gilberto, Dan Hicks – that I actually think I might go out and buy now, and oddities – a version of Stairway to Heaven by Frank Zappa; something that's listed as "Nick Drake with Soft Machine" but which is neither (perhaps it's Belle and Sebastian); the Ying Tong Song.
I'm going straight to hell, you know
