Nabokov And His Socks
I've picked the song that always reminds me of summer for Dave Hill's blog today but in case I'm accused of losing my taste, I'm posting this here at the same time as I'm annoying the neighbours by playing one of my favourite Bad Seeds songs at top volume... One of my few prized possessions is concert programme signed by Nick Cave but at this moment I think I'd swap it for a working laptop.
Or perhaps I should just do a Nabokov and write on index cards in my socks.
4 comments:
Sorry - deleted comment for typos, my constant bane.
I said: Oh, come ON Eileen! Oh masterful one. In these times of Political Umpire talking about time travelling, you have actually done it - you've taken me back in time to a place where everything is better and I'm so young I can hardly believe it.
And, like, that Dexy - he was so cute, how could I have forgotten!?
I was actually on holiday in wales the summer that come on eileen was out chip, well, not the whole summer obviously, just a week or two of it. A more innocent time indeed Ms B
Ms. Baroque, I fear you have a thing for his dungerees. I hate a terrible attraction to the woman on the fiddle, though I always feared that she'd have terribly hairy armpits.
Rilly, odd how it's the music of holidays. Of course, I was involved in lots of unarmed combat at the time. But it was a holiday of sorts.
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