Today I believe I have exceeded the recommended caffeine intake for any normal boy. I'd assume that the recommended caffeine intake, were there such a thing, would be zero, as its not great for you. But let's pretend, whilst the government are letting representatives from MacDonalds help draft the health legislation, that someone out there has said you can have say 1-2 cups of tea or coffee a day, I have taken that pretend hypothetical figure and drop kicked it in its non-existent face. Starting with a simple cup of breakfast tea first thing this morning, a usual beginning to my day, it rapidly descended into javageddon by being followed by a regular cappuccino at Costa Coffee for my first meeting of the day. I'm not sure who these regular people are that they meet in the land of Costa, but I assume I would appear like a Lilliputian to one of them. The cup required both hands for me to drink it with creating a lovely 'foam 'tache' effect with every slurp. Despite the gargantuan amount of caffeine, I drank it all as it was bought for me and I'm not one to waste. I can't foresee anyway I could send such a thing to children starving in poverty stricken countries and frankly, if they haven't eaten properly they shouldn't have stimulants anyway. Meeting two was cancelled so without thinking I drank a can of diet coke at home before heading out again. Halfway through the can I started to feel a tad like I was walking on a travelator everywhere. This happened to me the other day, but then I realised I was indeed on a travelator and so it was fine. That is, it turns out, the only time when feeling like you are on a travelator is ok.
Despite all odds, I bumped into my friend Jacqui on the busy streets of a Christmas time Oxford Street and amazed by coincidence levels and the fact we both had an hour to kill, we went for...a coffee. My coffee at Starbucks was topped up by two free tasters of Toffee Nut latte and by the time I left to go to meeting 2 my heart was sound liking it was trying to replicate the very best of Fela Kuti's music career. I felt slightly shaky and at the same time completely spaced out. If caffeine was reasonable it would either go for one or the other or let the two cancel each other out. Sadly not. It took me longer to get to meeting 2 as despite it only being 5 mins away, I managed to get a bit lost on Regent St. Its an area I have known for many years and a road where its rather hard to get lost on, yet with the Christmas lights seeming all a bit dizzy I walked in a circle three times before minimal exercise had burnt off enough coffee for me to get on my way again. I then thought it was a good idea to buy a new hat, before heading to meeting 2 and without thinking, ordering a diet coke again. I'm fairly sure that my wee could fuel a car.
I'm not sure how to conduct the rest of my day now. Should I continue to have caffeine and avoid 'The Crash' or try and wean myself off for fear of my heart turning to Drum 'n Bass and deciding to run to my gig in West London buying several hats on the way? Time can only tell, but for now, let me inform you this blog has so far only taken 2 minutes and 47 seconds to write. I have become the Flash. Where are my red pants?.....
HERTZ VAN RENTAL
Last night, having a drink with two of Nat's lovely friends I had never met before, I discovered one of them worked for a top art auction house. It was revealed that some time ago an angry employee took it upon themselves to sneak into the art storage rooms at night, find a small painting by an unnamed Dutch artist and list it in the book as by Hertz Van Rental. The piece was then sold under that name, which is just remarkable. Several pieces have since been auctioned under such a name to incompetent bidders and it has generally brightened my life knowing that smug arsehole yacht owners like those we performed to in Cannes last week, are somewhere out there telling people a small vehicle hire firm painted their newly purchased masterpiece without ever knowing. Brilliant.
There are various debates about what the most difficult perplexing thing in the universe is, ranging from the meaning of life to just why traffic lights turn red just as you get to them. I would argue that above everything else, the most impossible task in the world is getting wi-fi for your new home. Despite the internets being everywhere, much like any God, unless you already subscribe to this idol, its unlikely it'll ever answer your queries and prayers. After days of stealing from Chilli Bernstein's seemingly endless wi-fi resource, the well of digital knowledge appeared to dry up yesterday. Sadly yesterday was also the day it was discovered that the provider we were going for will no longer give us free wi-fi as the deal had run out. This was ok as I had a deal with my mobile provider for pretty cheap wi-fi, which had I known about the other one weeks ago, would've set up asap because I kept the hub aka the thingy that gives you the universe at your keyboard aka the portal into Facebook. The man on the phone informed me that despite me already having a hub, they would have to send us a new one. I'm not sure why. He wasn't sure why either. Apparently despite us constantly draining the Earth's resources there is enough plastic and metal to make enough wi-fi hubs so that everyone can collect them on their mantle piece like a tribute of historic and shit R2D2's. I accepted this irritating time wasting fact and continued.
15 minutes later, with the deal nearly all in place and wikipedia at our fingertips, the man on the phone told me our address could not be found. Well, not entirely. The building could, but not the flat. As the flat couldn't be found he couldn't guarantee the security of the delivery and the deal couldn't happen. It would require me telling Royal Mail to update their database which will take 6 weeks, then I can ring for a new hub which can take 7 days. Essentially all the world's communication resources have decided that myself, Nat and Tom are not allowed to make contact with anyone ever again. I'd be unsurprised if we just stop getting post altogether and any nearby flying pigeons are killed by a sniper incase they carry messages from the revolution. So I will now be destined to sit in Starbucks every time I want to send an email. Still it means I can keep getting my coffee fix. Not that I need it. Of course I don't need that sweet sweet java. That sweet sweet coffee coffee coffee. Must get more coffeee. Coffeeeeeeeee.