hives

As interesting an evening as I’ve had in, well, this week. First of all I plunged briefly into the murky world of the UK bloggers, followed swiftly by a trip to see Sweden’s finest garage punk diehards The Hives at the Notting Hill Arts Club. During the gig I was standing behind an incredibly beautiful girl, someone I was sure I’d met before. We exchanged a couple of glances, but nothing more, and when I left she handed me a flier for a club she’s obviously involved with, California Love (1st Sunday of every month, Shepherds Bush Green opposite McDonalds). I clocked the email address at the bottom, and realised that she’s the daughter of an old boss, someone I haven’t seen in the best part of 15 years, when she must have been no more than 14 years old. Suddenly I feel ready to collect my pension.