11.10 am. "Cage" is finally stomped & squirmed. Punk's digital editing has rescued Pat's electronic bass drum, which was contributing random untimed ghost notes between all the main beats. The Rhythm Buddies are once more united. A KC latin seven feel has descended, with RF on vibes.
12.00 pm. Punk has just proudly asked for a masturbation break. He assures me that new research shows that daily masturbation (cleaning out the pipes) wards off prostrate cancer. Can this be true, I wonder? Ah! The Daily Mail. Now I understand. I shall wait until this article appears in my beloved FT before following suit.
17.58 pm I find myself sending a gentle reminder to Luke Hutchence, literary agent to the stars, about the still non existent publishing on the Vicar Chronicles. Even the best marksman sometimes needs reminding to load the gun and point at the target. If no-one wants them, then I shall arrange self publication so that the readers of this diary (all two of you) can share the pain.
"What we hear is the quality of our listening."
