newest older email

2006-05-26 - 3:22 p.m.

You would not believe the junk, the shit, the absolute dreck, that I am putting in my eyes these days. Yeah, they�re having one of their arid moments again, and this time I�m pretty much throwing everything at them.

Basically, there�s not a moment goes by I�m not forcing some exotic eye gel, some obscure ocular tincture, some funky peeper-juice into my poor, parched mince pies.

I went to see my eye guy, who is actually a woman, the other day and she�s not happy. She looks at my eyes like you would a dehydrated alcoholic waking up after a night on the meths. Whilst flogging me a new pair of 200 quid specs (she was happy about that bit) she told me that the film on my eyes isn�t in a good way. In film terms, it�s a Jennifer Lopez straight to video classic. My tears have the same production values as Gigli, is what we�re essentially saying.

Anyway, the latest is some homeopathic (for which, read twice as expensive) bottled mist that did well in some experiments in Germany (�in a blind test� was the unfortunate turn of phrase) but is probably still undergoing clinical trials in all right-thinking countries. Possible side effects include aggressive head cancer, terminal hiccups and, for all I know, giant crabs bursting forth from your abysmally mistreated retinas at a socially awkward moment.

You spray it onto CLOSED eyes, which is a new one on me. Something about stabilising the lipids but since the manual seems to have been translated by an exchange student who just happened to be passing the lab, who the hell knows? Anyway, two days in and I�m not having to fish my eyeballs from the lower depths of the duvet every morning just yet, but we�ll see what happens.

Here�s a weekend slice of Indie Pop that I was touting around some of the less salubrious North London venues a few years ago:

Pablo sings the blues..

Back
hosted by DiaryLand.com