Ignition.

8:04 am.I have read three books and inhaled two protein shakes.The drugs have turned my colon to mush and I am losing booco weight Hershey squirt style.Too much information? Fuck off then.

The sun is  up and I am determined to ignore it.Shut it out totally.(Ner.) I think the antibiotics are starting to really kick in ,thank fuck for that.I don’t have time for this sickness malarkey.Here’s to the radically expensive black damask curtains that I have been dragging around and hanging in my vampire lairs since The Ranch.

Buh-bye world.It’s dandy being me.

Spoke to the Fish earlier.And amongst other things he said that he was looking for a wife.”If that’s the case what are you doing alone in bed on a Saturday night?” I inquired “Exactly!” he crowed confusing me and then rapidly changing the subject.I hate it when he pulls that stunt so I told him that women are naught but an ill advised folly that will force you to compromise when it comes to life defining deal breakers such as the manly pursuits of bow hunting,sofa dwelling and whittling.Wives,from what I can gather, tend not to find fart lighting amusing either.

That shut him up.

Me? I’m just looking for the Hawaii tee-shirt that John Mac vie wore in all the promo shots for “Rumors”.

And I am fucking well right too.About the wife thing. But I do really want that tee-shirt….

I don’t know from relationships.I mean,take a gander at my track record.(shudder) The only event ever run on my track was an egg and spoon race and I came last .Men don’t know what they bloody want and I have far too much to do to sit around and try and work it out for them.They only up and break your heart only to then settle for a  heroin addicted peroxided prostitute in the end so why bother?

Me? Songs to write and shows to play.Bravo!

All I know is that men do not want the whole package.Especially one that is 6’3,ferociously literate and not too hard on the eye as long as the lighting is right.I have banged on about this at great length before so I will can it.The Fish agreed with me though.Thank god for the gold standard coterie of stellar males in my life. My Band,Leefish,Blackie,Rossco,Francis,Toddski,Gene,Laz.I am one lucky broad.

I see the clumsy folk dance of courtship and it makes my rock infused ruby red blood run arctic cold.I am utterly crap at hauteur unless its that time of the month,I have the shits or  I hate you.Same goes with mystery. Useless.I wear all my organs on my sleeve,not just my heretic heart. Great visual huh?

Saint Tina always used to roll her eyes and wring her hands with despair even when I was just a mere stain,an infant ” Darling” she would coo looking perplexed as I ignored her,buried in a book as usual  “You don’t have to tell everyone everything.” I see her point but if you don’t lay it on the table people will just use it against you later so bugger it,in for a penny in for a pound I say. Although,that said, I am sure that she appreciates me protecting her from the sordid vagaries that constitute my unorthodox existence.I figure its the least I can do. The last time she saw me she said looking at my tattoo covered arms. “I just pretend that its a tee shirt that you can take off  .”

Bless.

The band has been on my mind all night.It’s on my mind all the time.Its where I am meant to be you know,hanging with a pack of dementedly talented gentlemen and making a ruckus.Fish says that I am an honorary dude anyway and he is right.I have been hanging in the locker room of life for far too long,my existence is a sausage-fest and I am a femme non grata to the dick-packers that I treasure and claim as my brothers.

But on the dating front? A predicament to be sure.Alphas just up and turn to jealous insecure fuck-wads behind closed doors and the alternative seems to be passive doormats.No thank you.Ye gods,I don’t want to wear the pants all the time.Actually I would like someone to peel  the pants off me and then…

But just thinking about that makes me hyperventilate with panic while grasping for a paper bag so guess I will have to work on that some.

In lieu of getting my fuck on I will get my noise on.

I think part of the problem is that as a performer and a person I tend to be somewhat amorphous.I am a shape shifter.I personally don’t have a problem with it but I am yet to meet anyone who can handle it.I have worked out that that is where so much of my grief comes from in relation to the breakdown of what I fervently believed was going to be the most enduring relationship of my life. He ticked all the right boxes on so many levels.Made me feel like a girl and treasured,supported my career,well in the beginning anyway.We had years of tenuous friendship and shared history on our sides and such similar stories that bound us even tighter. I accepted his wild uncompromising life without a moments hesitation and I guess that I was a fool to think that I would be afforded the same courtesy and amnesty in return.

It aches rather than hurts these days so I guess that is a good sign.

Being back in the public eye again always brings about interesting situations and times.Especially since I have visually and physically recreated myself several times since Tourette’s fell apart.Who wants to remain stagnant? Its bad enough that I haven’t progressed past the age of seventeen emotionally,I will be fresh fucked and hog tied if I am going to stay locked in 2002 visually.Gone are the hairy arm pits and tons of dreadlocks.Gone is the extra thirty kilos that I used to hide beneath, angry and spitting like a cat .I have paid my dues and I can do what ever the hell I want now,my pedigree is assured and I worked my ass off to make it so.

Meet me in the car park after the show if you want to argue the point and we will see who comes out on top.Hope you have your medical insurance paid up….

Meldrum was the launch pad for me to grow into being the woman I am meant to be.I started on the last run in Hamburg before Tourette’s split.Got serious about my training and my voice and it lead on from there.Still too shy to really let rip visually I spent a few years in my beloved black suit channeling Sir Nick Cave and his Highness Sir Johnny Cash. I felt free and hot for the first time.

And I got to play The Whiskey au go-go .Twice.

Anyone who knows me knows sartorially that I am a weird hybrid of Steven Tyler,Joan Jett,Anita Pallenberg,Stevie Nicks and a pyromaniac 14 year old boy lost in 1978. Or something.And that’s just today.So I guess I am finally at the point when I feel comfortable enough to just be myself,whoever she is this time round,on stage which is just lovely.Getting to hide behind my bass helps more than you think as well.

So here we go again.I want to take this band to great and uncharted territories and I think that they feel the same.Its so nice to be excited about something and the King only knows  that only music can do it to me every time.From the big white 10 LP gold and blue bordered Elvis box set from Readers Digest that my sad old pa gave me when I was a kid to jumping on my bed only this week to Slayer’s timeless 28 minute,ten song magnum opus “Reign in blood” Music defines ,soothes ,shapes and solidifies my drive,my very soul and sense of purpose.

The MC5 have saved my life,so,for that matter, has Clutch,Olivia Newton John,The Specials.Black Sabbath,Johnny Thunders,Rose Tattoo,Buddy Guy…..This list is endless,its twenty chinese phone books thick and the feeling it produces timeless.I will never die. Hallelujah..You dig where I am coming from?  Your girl here is a  flame forced fanatic .

To whit? An example?

The date of the last show that rattled me to my marrow and re-lit the path for me one again ended up tattooed on both of my shoulders being the slave to symmetry that I am.You heard me. The date. Of the show. I ain’t fucking around here people.I don’t have time to mess around and when it touches you?  Reignites you? Well,you must make a grand gesture,a mark, a reminder.Homage must be paid.It’s that fucking simple.

Some rather astounding new photos of my fine self are starting to come out and its always interesting to gauge reactions. I think I am the best that I have ever been and am mucho stoked that I am a late bloomer and only now hitting my creative stride.I would have loused this up so bad at 19. And getting to play with my hero’s and peers has given me the confidence that I was so sorely lacking. From all the amazing acts that I have toured with over the last riotous decade to the divine people that have shone their light on me and requested collaboration with the stuttering mess that I am I thank you from the bottom of my rotten heart.I am beyond grateful. You have no idea.

Just a 6″3  socially challenged autodidact from the sticks and I basically forced my dreams to come true at gun point.

My hours so unsociable and my ear plugs always in. Marcus is basically a socially retarded shut in much like myself which is one of the myriad of reasons why I adore him and we get along so well.Chatting to The Fish tonight we spoke of how it is going to be once this beast goes live.Nixon is hands-down one of the greatest showmen I have ever seen and I ain’t too shabby either.I just hope that all our alpha territorial pissing doesn’t cancel each other out.

Its been so long since I have been this hopped up about a creative venture and mixed with other like minded animals.Solo stuff is a muy different beast .That’s me pitting myself as a six stringed David against the audiences Goliath.A mix between wanking and picking your nose in public while everyone reads your diary and laughs at your spelling mistakes.Its not all that unappealing,don’t get me wrong,I mean,I have really grown to love doing it,its just not a band and that is what my life has been so sorely and sadly lacking. My head is spinning.

This is better than anything I could have  imagined.

Well, better than anything that would most probably just get me arrested anyway.