Either that or there are days ahead with me in me pants and string vest, eating out of takeaway trays and strumming all by myself with the curtains shut.
I don't know.
Not a pleasant thought, well, for anybody I'm sure.
All of which distracted me from The Fabulous One somewhat, but for not much longer, so getting that sorted is today's job. Sorted as far as disfigured can mean sorted. With less wood than I started. Literally, I mean. That isn't bringing me back to the PRS.
But today, yep. if things go to plan, it will be routing The Fabulous One and copperifying The Glory B One's 'plate before putting the rest of the guitar together tomorrow. I have high-ish hopes of getting some Glory this week.
I just have to think about finishing it and I find myself having thoughts about finishing it and then I realise I've been thinking about it and ultimately I realise I was thinking about it and then it's time to get the brats from school - game over.
So instead of just thinking I'm going to try doing, you never know, it might catch on.
So where to start.
Dunno really.
Ah, an instant update of breaking news from the Jooky front-line.
Sick brat stops play.
I should have known better, than to hope, to dream that perhaps, just perhaps, that one sunny day we'll meet again. I might be mixing my metathingies there somewhat.
Ho hum. Hope the scratchplate comes, at least I can be-copperify that.
La la laaa
p.s. Saw Obama got to meet Beckham yesterday.
Must have been a high point for him.
Is it me or does he look more like George Michael every day?
Beckham too, now I come-to-a-ponder it.
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