Well looky here.

Now, before you start shouting that I've not written a blog for almost a month; I feel I must proffer my sincerest apologies, say that I am a ninny, and point out that I couldn't remember my password.

Then recently I remembered that I had the password in an email, so now I'm back.

Aren't you pleased?
I bet you are.

Obviously, 'you' is just one old man who lives in Bognor - I don't flatter myself to think that lots of people read my blog...but anyway. Maybe there's someone somewhere.

So. New York was amazing. Is amazing. Will probably always be amazing. Why can't I live there? You can go out at 1am and there will always be some cute little coffee shop or restaurant or club that's open. I went to a vintage shop that was open until 2am.
This is the kind of place that suits me; not silly old England where shops shut at 5.30 and you can't get anything to eat after 11pm unless you are a particular fan of kebabs.

AND New York has 'Tasty D-Lite' which, whilst admitted being spelt in a most annoying American way, is an amazing Ice-cream-ish substance that is just like Mr Whippy, only better - and low calorie; and they have new flavours every day - and obviously it sounds shit, but really it's amazing.
It's worth living in New York for Tasty D-Lite alone.

And Ess-a-Bagel, where they do amazing Pumpernickel & raisin bagels, and the funny angry man at the counter shouts a terrible but hilarious English impression at you when you pay for your bagel, and orders you to say hello to the Queen for him.

People in New York food places always seemed to find me odd and bemusing. Personally I don't think it's the oddest thing in the world to ask for a grilled bagel with jam; but apparently in New York this raises eyebrows, as does the notion of choosing what you want when you get into the shop, rather than miraculously knowing exactly what you're going to have and instantly reeling it off the minute you get to the counter.

I had a bit of a run-in with one man in the bagel shop. It went as follows:

Me: Can I have a pumpernickel and raisin bagel with grape jelly please

Angry little man: With grape jelly? (Turns, I see him cutting the bagel and putting jam on it without toasting it)

Me: Oh, er, excuse me??!! Hello!!

(Angry little man refuses to turn around...other people working there poke him to alert his attention to my shouting)

Me: Sorry, I wanted it toasted

Angry little man: Oh! Now she wants it toasted! Now that I've put the jelly on it!

Me: Sorry, I thought it would come toasted anyway

Other man: She was trying to tell you.

Me: I'm sorry...

Angry little man: Oh, now she's sorry!

Other man: She's sorry because she saw you and you made her sick!

That made me smile all day. "She's sorry because she saw you and you made her sick!" Genius.

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My comedy output has been rather poor of late. I think I'm having another of my not-yet-mid-life crises. I have written some songs though; I'm planning to get them recorded and then up on myspace. Hopefully they won't be too crap.

I need to work out some sort of plan for next year. Christmas will be plotting time for me. And tax return time. Agh, tax returns. Why, why why?
Fortunately my step-dad is an accountant. This has never been particularly beneficial until now.

I have an overwhelming desire to refer to Christmas as 'Crimbleweed'. I don't know why. I think it's just because it rhymes with 'Grimbleweed', who is a little evil creature I invented as the arch-enemy of Pinkleberry; who is another little creature I invented. The adventures of Pinkleberry were supposed to go up on my website, but my website output has also been poor of late.

Pull your socks up, Pickett!

Right, I need to get out of the house before it gets dark.

Goodbye to the old man in Bognor, and anyone else

Arpi (RP) x