I reckon I've spent about £500 on hair wax in my life. That's quite a lot of dough. Maybe my hair doesn't need it anymore? Maybe it's absorbed all the chemicals and is naturally waxy now...
So, it's 8.30am on Sunday morning. My mad drunk neighbour woke me up at 6.17am singing a medley of 'La Bamba' and 'Pretty Vacant'. Fair play to him though, they are two of the best songs to sing when you are off your face. Then he played French jazz very loudly through his patio doors (which was quite nice - I felt like I was in some boho dream at that point), and then it got ugly. A massive, no almighty, argument started with his brother, whom he was drinking with. Apparently, the brother got all the love from Mum and Dad and he 'got bugger all cos they hated my f@cking guts'. Then there were tears. I spent the next hour listening to his life story.
I'm coming back at him with a fairly loud playback of 'Sketches Of Spain'. His poxy French formulaic jazz has nothing on Miles.
Plus, my stereo's louder.