What a strange day. From Samuel Johnson to St. Paul to Farrah Fawcett to Micheal Jackson via Tate Modern and Strada Camden. it's all a bit much ain't it? oh at least the Jeff Goldblum rumours arn't true, some consolation in this bath of fact fantasy and fatality.

The House of Words was wonderful. Chris Kenney's little books a delight and intrigue. I sooo love little books and often make them about big things that happen. If only i could have opened his little black book of 'Bad News' perhaps it would have some forsight into the sad death of Wacko Jacko. He rocked my world since I can remember. It's hard to understand how my own life has been catalogued in terms of Micheal Jackson songs. ABC when i was learning to read. Billy Jean when i ws trying to avoid unwanted pregnancy. Thriller when i was looking a bit like a zombie from the excessive partying. Leave Me Alone when i was getting divorced. Bad when i was getting over it. Earth Song when i had my last baby Sheelagh. Smooth Criminal when i got arrested and You Rock My World when i met the love of my life. Jamon mutherfuka.

Dinner with my girls was nice we talked about dead dads and uncommunicative brothers. C'est la vie.