So, Lawrence Gowen left me feeling as though I've ignored myself and the risks that go into making a life worth living. I dragged the 'ole keyboard out, all the way up to my third floor bedroom. I then noticed that the humidifyier was empty and there were wet towels left on the carpet by the Mole and proceeded to clean "my nest". Who can be creative when there is nought but mess around you?

I then realized that I needed an extension cord and went about the process of rummaging through the basement to find one. NEVER, EVER go to the basement unless you have previously planned on it or there is a bomb raid. I almost didn't make it out again. It is the receptacle for all things that I don't want to deal with or simply do not have the time for, and it is a "black hole" that sucks me in and won't let me out unless called out by someone. This time it was the "Baby Mole" who yelled "Mum...phone". Thank God for telemarketers..right?

So, tonight I play. Yes friends, I will perform a solo on the keyboard and accompany it with vocals lubed by the aid of some Sangioverse (only 2 glasses) and will embarrass the hell out of my kids. YEAH!!!! Maybe they will be so disturbed that they will run from the house in search of someone to share their misery with...I can only hope.

Stay with me folks. This could be the painful birthing of a star! You never know, now do you?