All these thoughts and images and notions and maybes all running through the mind, all these terrifying What If's, and then all it takes to clear the fuckers out the brain is for Sir Fleming to say "Is that them?" and for realization to sweep cross the psyche like blades cross a kidney, and for a wave, a "Hey!", and she's laughin, she's happy, and in that second right there, that nano-second, any What If's are sorted, done, out the road, and all because of the aura, the glow around her, like nothing I've ever felt ever even once, like it must've felt for the folks who wandered into Dylan's hotel room back in 1966, back when he was penning Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands and who the hell knew what deity spawned him, but certainly he's cascading cross some plateau we ain't ever gonna reach, so all we can do is be thankful for the flickers we can catch when he takes those shades off for a second.
So, yeah, realising that there was No Fucking Way, that was a burden relieved right there.
I got a hug.
I could taste it.
I got a "Right, we're goin to this bar, it's fuckin insane, it's a sweat-box, you'll love it", and Sir Fleming shrugs, says "Sounds good", and then it's hi, I'm Anna, and I'm saying hi, and thinking about holy shit, what seeds have been sown in this damn city, anyhow, every face leans forward's enough to floor a fella twice fore he knows what the hell's goin on.
Round the Phil Lynott statue, folks stood posing for photos, concentrated bursts of blinding camera flash, I'm asking Sir Fleming if he wants a photo taken.
"By fuck I do not. I wanna say Oi, Lynott, your bass playing was sub-standard!"
Harsh words for a crowd like this to be hearing, best head on here wherever Sinéad and Anna are headed, the screech-grind-thump-screech of Davidian by Machine Head leakin out from the cracks in the walls. I give Sir Fleming the kinda look that says "I feel fucking stupid for ever even toying with that notion that I never considered even once".
Heading down the stairs, folks kissing and fondling and snorting gainst the red brick, sweat hangin from the light fixtures, graffiti on the walls - "Nat, You're Amazing", and "I Suck Old Bastard Cock" - smell of poppers in the air, tell-tale white-rock phantoms bove a fella's lips straight ahead, Sinéad's sayin "Come on, hurry up", and I put the note-paper back in the pocket, the pocket of this fucking blue velvet jacket that was far too warm for the streets outside, never mind the boiling-point low-ceiling intensity of this gloriously deranged bar, folks moshing and yelling and cheering, girls falling over, drinks flung this way an that, a girl grabs my arse, says "Sorry", I'm thinking no, no you don't wanna be sorry, you wanna do it again if you wanna do anything, but she's away, and Sinéad and Anna with bottles a WKD mixed wi Jägermeister, they're saying come on, meet our friends, this is The Duke, this is Sir Fleming, say hello, and we're saying hello, and we will meet these people, but not just yet, not until the songs done, what's that lyric he's yelling?
Article comments
1 - Mat Brewster
I was going to quote my favorite line and say you're brilliant, Duke. But then there were so many I couldn't pick one. So I'll just say, that was beautiful man. Really.
2 - Bennett
..............
That's what speechless looks like.
Thanks Duke.
3 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
Mat and Bennett, thank you. it means a bunch to know folks dig this ongoin thing, i say that every time, but its the damn truth of the situation. with this instalment i was convinced no-one would know what the hell was goin on. it appears i was wrong, since you fine fellas worked it out, an thats enough to send a fella to bed with a smile on the yap.
thank you.
4 - Bennett
Yaw. Twas a masterful intro, beyond belief. I'm really in awe at all of it. Signed copies of your first book is what I'm getting at. I'll ebay 'em when I need to retire.
More please.
5 - Mat Brewster
Twas danged fine writing at that. It also brings a twing at the remembrance at the pain you go through, being the single lad you are. I remember too many nights fretting over some pretty lass who might've smiled at me three mornings before.
6 - Aaron Fleming (The infamous Sir)
Blue velvet jacket! The legendary smock of righteousness. I wanna witness that being worn more often now, cafe sits, all major events. I'm sure it'd bring a certain kind of magic to all proceedings.
7 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
Sir Fleming! here in the giddy climes of Blogcritics!
no, i can't get behind the wearin of the jacket at anythin other than maybe public executions. or jandek performances.
8 - DJRadiohead
A universal fucking sentiment that might not have ever been expressed better.
9 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
DJ, thank you! ah, we all know the horrors a that kinda situation. sadly. pathetically.
10 - DJRadiohead
And so now I am feeling greedy... will there be more installments?
11 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
DJ, sorry, i been away for a few days. yeah, there is an end to the tale, but i ain't got a chance to pen it yet. but it's comin, hell yeah.
12 - Sinéad
heh - you're my own personal diary, except its what was seen through your eyes, i need to hear the next account coz thats where i slowly but surely began to get wasted!!
13 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
sweet moses! Sinéad! i feel all blush-filled. well, least yeah, proves at least i didn't make you up for the purposes of an excessive ramblin narrative.
an i'm half way through part 6. and you weren't THAT wasted. nothin that wouldn't a been outta place in, say, some Tsarist opium-den back in the day.
14 - Sinéad
actually i am made up - i'm like that stupid fookin' dinosaur - the more you believe, the more power i get - i can now type, weeeeeeeeeeeee!!
hurry up with part six ya lazy cunt - i need to know what happens - or be reminded at least........and myself and annas moment better be told in the most tasteful way
15 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
heh, it'll be all the tasteful in the world. i wasn't gonna mention it, at least not with names, but you've gone an ensured that no, it's GOTTA have names.
an to the editors, "ya lazy cunt" is not a personal attack in this instance.
16 - Sinéad
is too a personal attack!!but you're well used to my foul mouth at this stage - you bring out the choicest of words from my vocab Dukey
COME ON NUMBER 6 ALREADY!
17 - DJRadiohead
COME ON NUMBER 6 ALREADY!
Ditto that. I only wish I were an Irishman so that I, too, could call you a lazy cunt. But I am an American which means I can't use that word. I am jealous.
18 - Sinéad
there are plenty of other things you can call him like a lazy fucker or a big fruit which is one of my personal favourites
or if you dont wanna type the whole word cunt there are ways around it like calling him a CUN fuckin' T
capital C capital U capital N capital fuckin' T
take your pick