Dreary eye-sag and bloated gills.

Not easy editing Gnome; contrary to student rumour it aint all blowies and signed Wolf Eyes twelves (if only). Caught sight of my boat in the mirror last week and nearly barfed at dreary eye-sag and bloated gills that confronted me like an Unsane sleeve circa ‘91. I got trouble.

Which brings me hence: checked into Lucio’s Ascetic Hermitage on Tuesday. What’s the deal? 14 “cells” in suburban Harrow for the rich and stressed to unwind the mind. I only got in ‘cause grime star Chuggy Silence blagged me a two day pass. He swears by it. Got M&S champers in his cell fridge. I didn’t argue the ascetic point. Just took the St. Michael, as it were.

So currently hittin’ the keys in the chapel’s wi-fi pod. All pewter and dark woods. Little Johnny Cadbury would love it! Right up his alley! I’ll never forget when he installed that baptismal font into his Hackney octo-pad and used it to mix Chino Shocks in (Cadbury was once a cocktail waitress in Fife)...

Anyway, enough verbs. I feel truly refreshed after this morning’s game of Bubble Bobble on my iPhone... Just nice to get away from London and be in the sticks for a while. Back on the tube on

Monday.

Keep it rigid.
Noah’s Arch