Since I finished this book yesterday, I’ve found myself unintentionally using some of the nadsat slang in my everyday speech. It’s a great way to elicit strange looks, but also to start interesting etymological conversations.

It made me feel vaguely dirty, yet strangely turned-on. Enjoyable.

Good, but it’s no “To Bring You My Love”. Then again, it’s no “Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea”. I like this record, but it’s not perfect. It will probably grow on me, like “Rid of Me” did; that record seemed so-so at first, but now it’s one of my favourite rock-out albums. I think “Uh-Huh Her” will, in time, become part of my regular rotation. It’s a solid PJ Harvey effort.

I’m just not in the mood for it, somehow. I can tell that it would entertain me, as I’ve started it about three times in the last month or so. I think I just need to clean my pallette first.

I came home a little tipsy from an outing with friends. It was early for a Friday night, and I had the house to myself. “Tender Prey” was set to high volume, a hot bath drawn and a candle lit. Let me tell you, I’d marry Nick Cave, if I only could. Sing like that, write like that, and I’m yours….