Facebook was always a mixed blessing at the end of the day.
For example I managed to make contact with a few pals from school, one of which I hadn’t seen since 1990. On the other hand one of only two women I’ve every truly loved has posted on FB that she is pregnant and about to get married, which I didn’t know until I was looking at “news” on the Home feed.
“Would you like to come to the wedding?” she enquired on FB chat.
“Not unless you want to be widow on the same fucking day” I replied.
I met an old school friend on Facebook who I dated WHEN WE WERE BOTH 12 (I capitalise due to forgetting to mention how old I was, the last time I said this and being met with a stunned, horrified silence). She still lives in our old home town, is divorced with 2 kids and last New Year’s Eve we met up for a coffee and a chat. She then asked if she could come over to Rome and who was I to be less than a gentleman?
We were coming out of the Vatican church of St Peter’s and I went and grummaged in the bottle bin near the metal detectors on the main gate. The guards had x-rayed my bag and found my Swiss Army knife and told me to either hide it in the bin or go home. Was most amusing, scavenging around amidist discarded Evian and Coke bottles, while fat American tourists looked on in astonishment.
The Rome earthquake was last Sunday night/ Monday morning and after a hard day’s sightseeing and a harder evening’s drinking we were fast asleep and didn’t feel a thing. 60 miles away was the epi-centre where around 250 people died. Turns out we both must have been very drunk and/ or tired as my pal who lives 2 miles away was woken up to see her bed shaking and her wardrobe doors banging open and shut.
I am flying to Atlanta in America in August and after about 4 hours searching couldn’t find a flight for less than £532 so bit the bullet and charged the plastic. My pal Jess is putting me up and wants to do a road trip which should be heaps of fun, not least because she’s planning on giving me a large cowboy hat to wear before we head off to Nashville and other places that have made their mark on Britain’s consciousness as well as the Us’s.
My mates Kevin Murphy runs a busy and very popular pub called (imaginatively) Murphy’s Bar in Leamington Spa. Due to the changing times he has abandoned Ladies Night and replaced it with a theme night of 60s, 70s and 80s music. The last ever Ladies Night was Thursday 9th April and apparently well attended. My own experience of this “thing” was seeing grotesque, 50 year old, flabby munters paying £3.50 for their special glass (it had a green dot on the bottom) and then proceeding to get completely hammered on the limitless refills this entitled them to. I was once having a quiet drink when a walking advert for the “before” shot of Slim Fast Shakes came over, yanked my shirt up and began playing with my nipples, while yelling to her mate “Eeehh, Doris, come and look at this”.
Think it’s best this one’s been put to bed.
My fave movies in the whole world are Bronx Warriors and Bronx Warriors 2. The director Enzo G Castellari lives in Rome and a few years ago we met so I could interview him for the website I’ve set up for the films at www.bronxwarriors.com. The actor who played gang leader Trash in both movies, Marco de Gregorio, was only 17 when cast in 1982 and vanished into the ether in about 1989 after apparently becoming thoroughly fucked off with the movie business. I have been involved in an off/ on attempt to find him for about 4 years and Enzo and Andrea recorded a message to Marco in 2005 saying that they would like him to get in touch (Andrea is now 38 and last saw Marco when he was 13 or 14) and really hope that I will be able to find him. Unfortunately the message is on a micro cassette and I left my dictaphone in Crete last summer. (It’s also tempting to alter the voices and have Hello Zep from Saw playing over the top if and when I find Marco, but that’s me being odd). On Friday 10th April I went back to the gym where Marco was “discovered” by Enzo in 1982 and asked if they’d heard of him or knew where he was (rumours abound that he is still in Rome and now running a gym). They hadn’t a clue who I was talking about so I shot a few videos on my versatle Olympus compact and then trundled off to an address in the south of the city to a Marco DI Gregorio listed in the phone book. My fingers were a-trembling as I pushed the intercom outside no.4 and a gruff voice went “SI?”.
Got up to the flat and it wasn’t him and this Marco had never heard of the other one so back to the drawing board.
I have friends in Moldova and while I knew that there had been demonstrations due to the Communists winning the elections by possibly nefarious means, I was unaware of the brutality and fear that’s been present since last Tuesday on the streets of Chisinau. I was casually chatting to a pal of mine on Trillian when she dropped the bombshell that she is scared to go out and they think Russian are trying to take over the country, but blaming it on Romania. I called her up on Skype and the poor little thing is petrified as many people have been kicked to fuck by the police and others have simply vanished.
Time will tell.