Steroids, Cocaine and Testosterone.

At the grand age of 33 after many years of illness I finally moved out of my parents' house. Taking up residence in a beautiful but somewhat decaying Victorian house owned by my friend JB, he rented out rooms only to working people. What ensued was a glorious 2 years of party, fun and cooking. JB and I often ventured out into the bars by the beach, met many, consumed fine food at very good prices. He worked in the security business and many owed him favours. So we were always welcomed in the finest establishments. I also learned from him to spot the steroid freaks and the coke heads. There were plenty of both in the Kent of 2003 until I moved away in 2007.

When I got to the University I was somewhat surprised that they were only just waking up to the cocaine tidal wave that had been enveloping the young of this country for some years. I've never liked being around people of cocaine. People of steroids are dangerously volatile. So in as much as I can I avoid such places.

A third element can be added to that toxic mix, testosterone. What a vile combination all those are together. Sadly last night as I went out I was confronted by a whole pub full of coked up, steroid filled and testosterone stinking idiots brought out by the boxing on TV. I've never had an interest in boxing, half naked men punching the shit out of each other is not great. Yet it brought them all out. And with them young women dressed in their finest clothes doing a pretend imitation of upmarket hookers.

I didn't stay long and it spoiled what had been a rather nice day. The afternoon had been spent with my old friends Katherine and Antony catching up on our nearly 17 year acquaintance over Chinese food and a couple of beers.

Back at home in the early evening I watched It's a Wonderful Life for the first time. I had been given the DVD by a friend 3 Christmases ago which rather baffled me. Now I know why she gave it to me. On the dark days when I feel worthless that sedate old film may bring me back to my sense of worth and purpose again.

Spoilt night aside today is another day. I'm listening to Rossini's La Gazza Ladra which I bought in Foyles yesterday along with opera from Verdi and Britten. A gammon joint is out ready to be roasted. The paper is part read and a country pub beckons after the music. A lovely way to spend a Sunday.

I Heard a Voice.