Ssikwonk

It is grey and wet and (to the soundtrack of Acetone's 'Every Kiss') the guitarist Mike Lightcap and myself and my old school friend Ay EmCeeEll are riding dirt bikes along excavated roadworks. We are then biking on the sidewalk, driving over fallen protective plastic barriers and jumping over the gaps-

Acetone - Every Kiss

Then (to the sound of Acetone's 'All you know') I am playing football (but with a baseball) with 3/7(?) others in a sunken square pitch. The game seems a bit hard to follow – I am not really sure what's going on – but it's certainly very competitive. Michael(?) from work is there, as droll and serious as ever-

Acetone - All You Know

Remut

I am sitting in an ill-defined (dreamescape) cafeteria space with the lady Cee Cee from my work (and 2 to 3 a.n.others). We seem to be discussing cheesecake – has someone brought one in to work? - and it looks like Cee Cee has missed the opportunity to grab a slice. It just so happens I have a triangular slice of my own which, as it happens, is both homemade and half-eaten. I offer the remaining half to Cee Cee. She really doesn't know what to say. I mention that it was made by my mother-in-law and that, “I'm pretty sure I don't have Coronavirus.” (Is my little brother there, disapproving?) Besides all this I am somewhat concerned as I have a small kitchen knife with me, a 3 inch sharp blade into a rubbery burgandy handle. It is wrapped loosely in a crumb filled paper napkin-

I am preparing to do the washing up and I lift a mug from the basin to turn it the correct way up. It spills a mix of granola cereal and cooked rice with turmeric onto the (white) worktop – I curse myself for not attending to it earlier. Is my brother again present, scoffing at me? I hurry to scoop up the rice from the worktop (which has a sort of odd, inset plughole too) and notice that it is already leaving spotted yellow stains-

Camrick

I am with the musician and singer Nick Cave and we are having a discussion, something along the lines of addiction and I comment that my obsession with ??? is kind of like taking heroin... before hastily backtracking with a, “well, not really...”-

I am talking with the musician Mr. C and am waxing lyrical about Leftfield's 'Space Shanty', saying how I heard it playing in the shop HMV and that it is a stellar example of 1990's techno, that it is well and truly 'up there' with the very best the decade has to offer. Mr. C has a sly grin on his face – I cannot tell if he genuinely agrees or if he is humouring me (because he thinks I'm talking absolute crap)-

Leftfield - Space Shanty