Sorry for the slight hiccup in the posting rhythm but, bad news, Norm’s told me to haul my arse. My trusty Norm and the use of his Mac are no more. Nightmare. Had to take a couple of days out to cool down and mull it over. He said he’d had enough of the sneezing. Eh? He’s always been allergic to feathers. He knew that, I knew that, and I always did my very best to clear up after myself. Basically, he threw a wobbler when I accidentally shat on his keyboard. I tried to tell him it was Tippex, but he was having none of it. He said it was the last straw, and told me to fuck off. Jesus.
For a moment I thought my whole world had gone tits up till, out of the blue in a kind of magic sort of a way, an option appeared.
‘L’ is a lady who helps me out from time to time on the PR front. Anytime anyone wants to speak to me, ‘L’ picks up the phone and kindly explains that, being a pigeon, speech in a ‘people’ sense is something that has alluded me since birth. She then tells them she is my ‘people go-between’ and deals with the query on my behalf, referring it back to me when necessary.
‘L’ is the only ‘person’ apart from Norm that I have ever had any direct contact with. We get on well, and she totally gets the whole blogging pigeon thing. Frankly, I think she’s quite impressed by it all, especially when I made into Time Out’s Top 50 London websites.
Anyway, she’s just taken up residence in Clerkenwell, which is a reasonably short shot from Soho. Clearly, this option would have been way out of the question had she still lived in W4, which is where she’s just emigrated from. Fucking arse end of nowhere. Great for a Sunday stroll, but I was always glad of returning to my Soho pad whenever I made it out that far.
Soon as I mailed her to let her know about my Norm issue, she offered to take me in.
She said there’s a clear sheltered entrance at the back and that it would be cool, providing I didn’t tell the landlord. Pissed myself. Imagine that? ‘Hi, did you know that your tenant lets a pigeon called Brian in everyday and allows him to use her computer to write bog posts?’
Dogs nuts too coz she’s a Mac lover like me, which means there’s no need to mash my head up trying to learn PC.
I decided to swing by and check it out in advance of a giving a confirmed yes. As I thought, the fly was a piece of piss. Straight up Oxford Street, over Holborn, and hang a right just before Sadler’s Wells.
Neighbours are always an important factor I feel…
So far so good.
Looks like I got me a new office. Nice
So, Norm – cheers for all the help so far, but you can stick your sweaty little Soho skankhole in a place the sun has never seen.
Clerkenwell – bring it on.
Tell you what too, ‘L’ is way cooler than Norm. Not only did I get to check out her new pad and use her computer, she said she was glad of the company and handed me a plate or Organic seed to keep me going.