J'aime la petite pluie Qui s'essuie D'un torchon de bleu troué! J'aime l'amour et la brise, Quand ça frise... Et pas quand c'est secoué. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ** O Breizh, ma Bro, me 'gar ma Bro. **

Enough about me.

My mind was filled with that great song "Lover Man" as Billie Holiday sings it; I had my own concert in the bushes. "Someday we'll meet, and you'll dry all my tears, and whisper sweet, little things in my ear, hugging and a-kissing, oh what we've been missing, Lover Man, oh where can you be..." It's not the words so much as the great harmonic tune and the way Billie sings it, like a woman stroking her man's hair in soft lamplight. The winds howled. I got cold. —On the Road, Jack Kerouac

Zombies. Bass. Posh girls with incredible legs. 1980s cinematic production values. The Mars Volta. 2000AD. Correct Hip-Hop. 1967. Energy drinks. Frank Zappa & The Mothers Of Invention. Ahmed Hoke. The Mothership Connection. Both Shaun and Winona Ryder. Fashion. Passion. Both Stan and Jim Lee. Public Enemy. Twin Peaks. Anime. The Fall. Early Wes Craven. Late nights. Confectionery. Baywatch. New Wave and Post-punk. John Carpenter. Stussy. Jamie Hewlett. Hollyoaks. Acid Mothers Temple. Troma. Forza Motorsport III. Orange Squash. The Buff Monster. Grand Theft Auto IV. Stanley Kubrick. Seventies Police Departments. Lora Zombie. Radiohead. Darren Aronofsky. DC Hardcore. Ekundayo. Thai Green Curry. Ghost World. Cheap felt-tips. Miles Davis (1968-72). Generation X. Twitter. Side B of every Greatest Hits cassette. Toxic! Comic. Havana Club rum. Boobs.