The Importance of Jeff

I had a miraculous moment the other day while napping in bed and browsing the book which has been such a disastrous influence on my life; Jeffery Bernard's 'Low Life'. The book itself is so utterly hilarious and so utterly real and so utterly miserable- 'a suicide note in weekly installments' - that I recommend it to you all (probably it's hard to get- typical of fucking publishers- really it should be obligatory on every school reading list, like 'The Cruel Sea' or 'A Kind of Loving')

The moment, however, the bit which had me smart from my slumbers (for I hadn't noticed it before) was when he describes his preparations for a visit to Bristol University, an event which he is nonplussed about in the first place (for he has 'nothing to say'). The thing is, I was one of the audience when Jeff came to Bristol University and that event changed my life. ( I was in love with the oppo of the Literary Society who'd invited him by mistake- thats why you love people, and that's why Jeff didn't understand why he was there).

How amazing is that doesn't say the half of it. Pissed (long train ride) he talked of women, horses and suicide. With that, he ruined the rest of my life. For me; twenty years spent in the Coach and Horses at least, and the terminal inability to comprehend the sort of consensus outlined below, and the sort of idiots who are terminally indisposed to humanity, and a desire to sit at a typewriter instead. Cheers.