Hurry on Sundown

Two nights in Highbury: Thursday with Tom at Gem, a Kurdish restaurant on Upper Street. Turns out Kurdish food is pretty much like Turkish food, except you get free cake and ice-cream.

Friday, cycle at dusk down our road. For the Jewish population it's a beginning - sundown is the start of the Sabbath; for the Muslims it's an end, sunset means the end of the day's fast. Down secular Church Street, the smell of frying garlic and incipient Friday night excitement.

We are attending Fennings Fest '09. Dan, who has brought a tape measure with him to measure his cards and presents, is upset that no-one has brought a pyramid shaped hat for him: "You bunch of bastards," but gets his revenge by blowing out the candles on his birthday brownie before revealing that he has caught swine flu from watching Panorama which means only he can eat it. Later, he tries to measure his beer bottle, with disastrous results. I argue with Other Dan about Top Ten Cohen Bros Films (He: No Country, Me: Intolerable Cruelty) and which is the best noir pastiche (Me: The Big Lebowski, He: Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid.)

Back down Stoke Newington, hilarity bursts out of pubs and restaurants onto the street; on our road a whole deck of cards lays splayed out on the tarmac and a roll of glittery gold plastic gleams like frost in the car headlamps.

*
In other news, The Heavy! The Make Up meet James Brown down a dirty alley and decide to form a Screamin' Jay Hawkins cover band. How you like me now? Quite a lot.

Hurry on Sundown

Two nights in Highbury: Thursday with Tom at Gem, a Kurdish restaurant on Upper Street. Turns out Kurdish food is pretty much like Turkish food, except you get free cake and ice-cream.

Friday, cycle at dusk down our road. For the Jewish population it's a beginning - sundown is the start of the Sabbath; for the Muslims it's an end, sunset means the end of the day's fast. Down secular Church Street, the smell of frying garlic and incipient Friday night excitement.

We are attending Fennings Fest '09. Dan, who has brought a tape measure with him to measure his cards and presents, is upset that no-one has brought a pyramid shaped hat for him: "You bunch of bastards," but gets his revenge by blowing out the candles on his birthday brownie before revealing that he has caught swine flu from watching Panorama which means only he can eat it. Later, he tries to measure his beer bottle, with disastrous results. I argue with Other Dan about Top Ten Cohen Bros Films (He: No Country, Me: Intolerable Cruelty) and which is the best noir pastiche (Me: The Big Lebowski, He: Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid.)

Back down Stoke Newington, hilarity bursts out of pubs and restaurants onto the street; on our road a whole deck of cards lays splayed out on the tarmac and a roll of glittery gold plastic gleams like frost in the car headlamps.

*
In other news, The Heavy! The Make Up meet James Brown down a dirty alley and decide to form a Screamin' Jay Hawkins cover band. How you like me now? Quite a lot.

Lucy Mangan's Got Nothing On Me

Lookee! There's me! Number 44! Edited from the original 1600 words down to 500 to enter the competition and then again by the Guardian subs to 100 words - but to a third generation Guardian reader, 100 words is better than 0 words. The paper version is illustrated by one of David's photos:

Lucy Mangan's Got Nothing On Me

Lookee! There's me! Number 44! Edited from the original 1600 words down to 500 to enter the competition and then again by the Guardian subs to 100 words - but to a third generation Guardian reader, 100 words is better than 0 words. The paper version is illustrated by one of David's photos: