A fortnight ago I was at a meeting. Somebody brought this little dog – white furry thing. I don’t know if it was a specific brand. But it went around sniffing out everybody there and got to me and starting humping my leg. It was pretty fuckin’ funny. I think it was a day or few before that I’d missed a Rodney Dangerfield movie, but who cares when you can be a participant in your very own Dangerfieldian scenes? This kind of dog is the sort that generally when I see them I assume that it must be a girl-dog because they’re just so, well, girlish. But no – instead: fiesty.
Anyway it was there again tonight and again mine was the only leg worth a hump-attempt. I don’t get it.
Floating my boat musically this week is Gene Krupa – Drum Boogie. Swingin’ and swell. He was known as a big band drummer, and I’d heard him kickin’ it on a couple of tracks before — and sure it’s not as wild as the amon tobin drum crash-bam-boom-bash rolls, but there’s 60 years between them.
I’m liking that mid-1940s ‘gettin’ the dinner ready in wiinter and everything’s gonna be aawwlllll-right’ feel. Up until a couple of months ago I’d found the 40s kind of repulsive but am now curious. I wish I had a Tardis.