Poor Paul. I think he came to visit this weekend to get away from his usual drinking habits, instead he was caught on a tidal wave of gaudy cocktails with the rest of us. A trip to the Revolution for lunch with Sian and Dave on Saturday stretched out to an afternoon that gradually sucked in other people including Paul, Christian, Julie and Steve. After we'd worked through all 35 flavoured vodkas and started again, along with some vaguely terrifying 88% vodka called Balkan (and cocktails on the side of course), it all got a bit of a blur. Gay bars, misdirections, oompah bands, Mariokart, Paul getting off with Julie, that sort of thing. It was lots of fun but I felt like fucking death for most of Sunday, which made going to band practice in Manchester zero-fun.

Steve drove us to Pete's, he's actually joined the Superkings now and is playing this Friday after just the one practice! Hardcore. In other exciting SK news, we're playing with Okkervil River on their Manchester and Nottingham gigs in September. Okkervil Fucking River! If I think about it too long I start vibrating.

Horrifyingly though that gives me a kind of deadline for sorting my shit out and actually joining the band on stage, assuming I don't want to miss the chance to play on the same stage as one of my favourite bands. Man, I'm so crap at applying myself to anything. Maybe I could pay someone to hypnotise me into learning piano... that way I wouldn't have to rely on my godawful willpower.