To Love, or Not to Love

Valentines day on a dull day in Plymouth.

Without love in existence for you, you are resigned to solitary compensations; sat alone outside Cafe Roma reading a big fat book (on “Post Modernist Conceptions of the Utilitarian Valence of… Valentine’s Day” say….Lol)

Or maybe love is in existence for you and looks like this:

A chunky black guy clung on to his  fat “babe”.

There was something slightly “special needs” about them.

Or maybe they were just being chavvy lovey dovey dopey.

They luv one another so much – he’ll get her pregnant in a minute, and they’ll end up living in a rubbish council flat in St Budeaux.

Claiming benefits.

Then he’ll leave her.

Or get sent to prison.

For beating her up.

Or dealing crack.

Oh dear.

Oh well.

Make of lurv what you will while it lasts.

It’s what makes the merry go round go round.

On how to disappear up your own backside

What do you make of that sign?

Do you – like i do -  find it aggressive?

It infers that customers – you and i – are stupid (“if you like high prices”) and can fuck off (go elsewhere”)

There’s blame going on; an insulting, threatening tone.

I imagine going in and saying “You haven’t charged me enough for this greasy pile of shitty chips” (altho not saying “greasy” or “shitty” obviously) – and some thunk-headed lunk barging out from behind the counter, grabbing me by scruff of  neck and shoving me arse over heels onto the pavement snarling “Go Elsewhere!“

This cafe needs some BBC2 makeover programme guru person to advise them on how to encouragingly, and warmly, invite people in.

Into their rubbishy shit-hole  (Lol)

The “spoiled rotten dog”

Saw this outside a cafe in Ashburton. One of those chintzy china tea cup with sliced lemon drizzle cake kind of cafes.

Plus this slobbery fat old dog sniffing smellily around his (and your) balls.

I ought to go in there just to tease him with my toasted tea cake (Lol)

Dangle it where his “licker” can’t reach……

The Indians are coming (or going)

Once it was the Salmon Leap cafe.

Then it turned into a horrible Little Chef.

Then into the sad little Chinese “Country Road Resturant” you see in the background. Sad, because they put so much effort into making it look authentic Chinese inside. But nobody ever went in.

Just as nobody will ever go in to “The Eastern Eye” when it opens either. If it opens that is. Cus if these Indians have done any market research into the town at all, they’ll wise up fast.

And do a runner.

Red Rock Cafe

A rubbish photo i know. I’ve tried on numerous occasions to get a pic of this cafe – but the train is often speeding by. (Yes, it’s from the train up to Exeter i took this)

Right next to the sea it is. I love the idea of going for a frisky walk along the beach and then plopping down at the Red Rock Cafe for a sugary cup of tea (and a tunnocks tea cake. yum)

Just like these people are doing right now. Had exactly the same idea as me.

I’m gonna have to go one day.

Wish you were here

What do you reckon? Fancy it?

To sit here in this sumptuous leather green armchair listening to Stars of the Lid on your ipod, flicking thro the book of Burmese proverbs you’ve just bought in Harlequin, glancing thro the great pics you took this morning of hidden wooded deer, blogging on your laptop (about sitting in a cafe) the lovely you feel life is just to be alive in.

Sipping a pot of strong Italian coffee.

The cold rain outside slashes hard across the window. You’re bug as a snug. A fire is gonna be lit soon just behind. A real fire. It’s crackle and glow will make you want (in a minute) a big mug of creamy hot chocolate. And a huge slice of Black Forest Gateux.

You’ve got 2 hours of long slow worry-free afternoon to slide and sink into. No pressure, no stress. Nowhere to be getting to. Nowhere to be getting away from.

Just being here. Is all.

All there needs to be.