End Of The Week, Friday night

I went and bought Bob Dylan's Modern Times. I read a review that declared it an instant classic. I used to listen to Bob Dylan, as a kid.

I used to listen to Pink Floyd, David Bowie, Deep Purple... Bette Midler – well, the gay gene had to surface some where along the line.

I've always had a retro heart; old is good, I guess I'll come to believe that more and more as the years pass. Any wonder I love old cars and old houses. Hell, Mark was eleven, is eleven, years older than me. He used to call me his Nicholas Nickleby.

I bought Neil Young's Harvest, another childhood memory.

I bought Sam Cooke,

Michael Jackson's Live in Budapest,

Angie Stone's Live in Vancouver,

All cheap... gotta love JB Hi-Fi.

Cute Neil, behind the counter, with the sandy hair and the blokey voice, enthused about Sam Cooke, "What a great singer, mate." Then he recommended a Marvin Gaye cd they had on special, but JB's was 1000 degrees and I'd already had a headache for most of the day.

I was heading to the video shop to get TransAmerican, ah well, maybe next Friday.

The head ache started from my state of starvation for my diabetes test, this morning. It took two hours. A blood test, followed by a diabetic test - just to be sure (look I made it thus far, mate, no matter what you might be thinking now) - follow it with a drink of sugary muck – without having a diabetic turn - wait 1 hour, another blood test, wait another hour, another blood test.

My doc threw in a cholesterol and prostate cancer blood test, while we were at it. Can’t waste that state of starvation. So, I guess the worst case scenario is that I’ll turn out to be a diabetic, cancer patient who is in immanent danger of having a heart attack.

Wish me luck.

So I didn’t eat until midday and I’d had the head ache ever since and, however long it would take in the heat of JB to find, another CD that I didn’t really need was just too much to think about.

I needed Mersyndol (one of my favourite drugs) not Marvin Gaye.

Did I ever tell you about the obese chick Josie, who had boils hidden in the rolls of fat under her arms, with who I used to work years ago.

"I don't know why, it's not my diet," Josie would say, as she devoured a jam donut, with one inhale. She and I used to pop Mersyndol and some other pain killer, the name of which I can't remember now, which was her favourite, whenever we were having a stressful day. I used to take her antidepressants, too. "It just helps me be strong enough to take them, if you take them too," Josie would say. "You know, I don't feel like I'm so much on my own." They were little blue pills, I never felt any effect.

I bought red wine and passed out on the couch watching Angie Stone. Mark rang in that time to see how I was. All I really need now is to slot a current boyfriend into that picture and all would be well with the world. Curled on the couch together, on an end of the week Friday.