Isn’t It A Pity?

Doesn’t seem to be my day. I’ve been running around town for my agent and haven’t had enough time to write a proper article all afternoon. I’m listening to the Concert For George (Harrison) and thinking I’d like to own a full DVD edition some day. Maybe I’ll buy myself a copy for Christmas is I sell enough books before then.

In other news, I ran into an old colleague of mine who politely took my card and pretended he’d get in touch, which I actually think was rather sweet of him, considering I looked like a derelict and clearly have nothing he needs. Such is life.

My agent may be going into the manufacturing business as a sideline, making yoga mat carriers. I’ve already made a logo for her business, to be called People Hands Manufacturing.

Ringo’s singing Photograph, a song I happen to love for some odd reason.

I have too many book shelves in this place, and most of the books don’t even belong to me. It’s like living in a lending library.

Ringo probably throws the best parties in rock and roll. I wonder why I never get invited? Maybe I should learn an instrument, huh?

Paul’s talking about playing ukeleles with George after dinner, and now he’s singing Something. It’s actually very sweet.

Okay, as you can see, I’ve got nothing tonight. Might pop in one more time before midnight, but it I don’t, I apologise for making it such a light evening. Unless light entertainment is what you were after, in which case, I hope you enjoyed the show.

There’s Clapton playing the guitar solo. Beautiful. And now Eric and Paul are singing a duet. Lovely.

Good night.

Eddie.

Don't be shy. Tell me what you really think, now.

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