Saturday, August 12, 2006

Saturday 12

A grey, cool Saturday to be precise.

Awoke early and couldn't get back to sleep. Went and bought some bacon from Kennedy's, who sell the best pork round here. Anyone remember putting crisp packets in the oven as kids, and shrinking them to the size of bus tickets? That's what most bacon seems to do under the grill. Not Kennedy's. None of this '87% pork' for them. Just as well I went early as they quite often sell out by midday.

Came back, drank coffee, read the guardian, and listened to the Arvo Part CD I bought yesterday. How exceedingly middle class of me.

Saw Marvyn looking like he'd just invented a subgenre of hangover. Having gone to an award ceremony for the bank he works for last night, he was unashamedly late.

Not sure what to do now. Might hop on the bus (then the tube) and go 'somewhere'. My friend Vic is down this evening, for eight hours, to go to an Northern Soul all-nighter at the 100 Club on Oxford Street.. Don't think I'm going to make it there, but I might hook up with her for a few beers this evening.

1 comment:

  1. I used to go to Kennedy's too. Not particulary when I used to live in BigC but when i had the indubitable delight of working 2 days a week as security at Camberwell Magistrates Court. Much joy was to be found in commuting from White Hart Lane to BigC Green. Much joy was to be found in throwing out rastas who insisted on praying aloud in court. Much joy was to be found in policing 14 year old rapists who threw chairs at judges. Much joy was to be found in observing the scintillating racial conflicts between public and staff. More joy was to be found at Kennedy's - or at least you would have thought so but that miserable blond bitch who normally works there never fucking smiled once so even though they do the best scotch egg you will ever taste and an outstanding selection of steak pies once I had become a local I only went there once. This was partly the womans fault, though she did seem to remember me from many years before and smile on this basis, but mainly cos pork pie consumption had reduced and I never got there early enough to get any: all eaten by OAP's. Anyway, eat the pork pies, steak pies, and scotch eggs, not only are they insuperable but you will prop up this clearly flailing local business with its nostalgia inducing 1940's shop frontage. Although maybe not as I get the impression that its just a front for some descendent of Mad Frankie Fraser aka 'The Dentist' who you can sometimes see on the Walworth Road and who I once met about 8 years ago in Pizza Castello on Elephant and Castle whilst he was waiting for Mickey Rourke! If Kennedy's does have this sinister link though you'd best not eat anything from there as its probably a Bulgarian porn lord. Cheerio!

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