scribbles tagged ‘1987’

they all looked the same to me

Friday, July 11th, 2014 | tags: , , , ,  |

and your point is?Sampo has found herself a new home near Birmingham. Upgrading her home to a quirky Georgian house with an adult family. I’ve known one family member since 1987 when we dated for a year. We visited mum and dad in that time. I tried to prompt mumsie to remember him

Me: “The tall skinny one with a curly quiff”

Mumsie: “They were all tall and skinny dear”


they all looked the same to me
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hearts and noses

Wednesday, August 4th, 2010 | tags: , , , , , ,  |

the snow is cold and fresh, lets go out on the downs and make love, I really want to make love outdoors, please…

I knew the pull of making love in freshly fallen snow.

But not with him. We weren’t even friends, let alone lovers. Once I would have considered that all part of the fun.  I’d learned the hard way that strangers with a sense of vitality, of living life to the full, seemed to come in a package that perversely included a need to possess, control.  To own you in a way that breaks legal and moral boundaries, that breaks skin, bone, hearts and noses.  I’m more cautious now.

Masturbate or find another partner, I’m not interested

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Sunday, December 13th, 2009 | tags: , , , ,  |

you’re the only girl for me

We laughed together at his assertion.    It was one of the most honest expressions of closeness I’d heard then or since.

After two weeks of dating that involved lots of

  • laughter,
  • sleeplessness,
    loud singing after dark,
    passionate debating of  the relative efficacies of pychological theories,
    burning of incence, nicotene and canabis

He dumped me.

Easing the suprise with the phrase ‘you’re the only girl for me’ and  explaining that he preferred boys.   With hindsight, this explained the dearth in exchanges of bodily fluids.

20 years later. He’s still passionate, humourful, debating, smoking, prefering boys and I’m still the only girl for him.   Only now there is even  less excahniging of bodily fluids because the boy’s grown into a christian


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crazy sheep

Monday, August 17th, 2009 | tags: , , , ,  |

Term of endearment or insult?   Sometimes it can be difficult to tell.  

The first time my college roomate from Sheffield called me a ‘Mardy cow’,   apart from having to ask her what ‘mardy’ was, I was a tad offended.    No-one had ever called me a  ‘cow’  , to my face, before.   Clearly I’d had a sheltered youth.   My  Sheffield room-mate quickly put my right on this one,   cow is a term of endearment.      Apparantly ‘Mardy Cow’ was an affectionate expression to convey her extreme disappointment that I wasn’t going to be joining her for an evening of heavy metal music appreciation.   Not really my bag.  

I’d rather be a crazy sheep listening to the likes of curiosity killed the cat,   I can’t help admiring the lyrics and  behatted lankey body movements of the rather charming Ben.   But not my room-mates cup of tea.   I called her a mardy cow and she replied by demonstrating how her long hair accentuated the head-banging experience.   Excellent.

Curiosity killed the cat sang Misfit

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Doctor 8

Monday, August 3rd, 2009 | tags: , , ,  |

While studying for my Doctorate I saw the talented Dr. Robert  and marvelled at his ability to complete a Doctorate so young.   In those days I used to confuse optimistic love songs with optimistic political songs.

Still do

Nursing a heavily chaffed-heart under a recent piercing, a 100% cotton vest and an outsized mohair jumper.   Yet  I still managed to believe this song was a rallying call to vote against Margaret Thatcher rather than an optimisitic  love song.   Planet Wendy can be pretty twisty at times.

Most times

The Blow Monkeys sang It doesn’t have to be this way

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Monday, May 25th, 2009 | tags: , , , ,  |

A few years ago, I used to see this group of children playing in front of my building, and there was one of them, whose name was Luka, who seemed a little bit distinctive from the other children. I always remembered his name, and I always remembered his face, and I didn’t know much about him, but he just seemed set apart from these other children that I would see playing. And his character is what I based the song Luka on. In the song, the boy Luka is an abused child — in real life I don’t think he was. I think he was just different     Suzanne Vega

Suzanne Vega sang Luka

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