On Bass...

Visits to hhn have monstered quite a bit since I admitted defeat and went back to talking about animals and sandwiches and my favourite guitar solos.

Somewhere, there is a bit of scientific research to be done on what people really want to read about in blogs and on the rest of the net. The theory is that it is about finding a cure for cancer or finding long lost friends or something else nice and useful. In reality, it is just a bunch of goons surfing around for discussions on Jerry Garcia's favourite ice cream flavour, why the moon is really made of cheese, and comedy animals. God, you must be very proud. Satan, you appear to be winning. (Not that anything I write about here on hhn is particularly Satanic, other than my hatred of Jimmy Carr.)

I guess - indeed have been told - that there are people out there who set up sites and write articles based only on the most searched words and terms on the web in order to attract traffic and advertising revenue. This is - I have also been told - all part of the on-going Google versus The Rest Of The World battle whereby Google create search rules and people try and figure them out. It is a bit like tennis, with Google usually played by Roger Federer and The Rest Of The World played by a nippy, naughty Mexican who came into the game on a wild card, and is happy to slap away at Federer's rockets in the hopes that it might generate a bit of sponsorship from Sprite Lite or Toys R Us or Ask Jeeves or some other quirky untapped source of revenue. (Fundamentally, the giants will win, but maybe our beaner pal will make a few dollars. Chance still exists - a fact my next door neighbour would agree with having glanced across into our kitchen on Wednesday evening to see me naked except for a mud face pack.)

Re weekend: am off to buy a DVD player that will do our new TV justice, and a new telephone, and maybe The Young Marble Giants album, and a book about writing well ("At last" they all sigh in relief.) The first two will involve me being condescended to by children aka the staff in Currys. (mrs househusbandnot was funny about this last night. She suggested that I buy more stuff on line so that I could avoid the hhn in shop freak outs. I feel this part of the trial which is my life.) The third will involve a pretty heavy dose of angst about why I am dwelling on the past rather than trying to learn about and listen to new music. And the the fourth will involve me staggering around the self-help section (which is always placed next to the gay section for some reason [are they trying to tell us something we need to know about?] of Waterstone's being distracted by the nutter woman in dark glasses buying The Bluffers Guide To Alimony and the guy I noticed at the entrance who looked like a real loser and who ends up in the same aisle as me looking at the same books as me. Maybe I should be doing all this on line. It might be safer, or at least less revelatory.

And mrs hhn and I are going to take a look at buying some bikes so that we can couple around on them this summer. (mrs hhn's BIG joke about me is that I have very short arms and legs, so expect much hilarity when I end up buying a child's bike despite being over six foot tall.)

Have a good weekend people, and keep it coming. We are getting there.
Regards The Bass Player.