Sometimes of late, Ive been wondering if I haven't got better things to do with my time than piss off an ageing ex-landlord. I've been out of 61 for a month now, living at the grace of Tolson and Jim in their (lovely) cell-like spare room. Mr Khans owns that flat too. But it wasn't enough. One day, while in London, killing time at !WOWOW! before a gig, I perused ebay and found a caravan for sale near Glasgow, going for a song. I bid, and got it for £103. Half a months rent; a bargain. Mum would be proud.

There was a bit of trouble getting it delivered cos I couldn't find a car with a tow bar anywhere. But eventually the guy selling me it agreed to drop it off and even helped me, Jim and Tolson push it down the back lane into the garden of 61. Which wasn't easy, the lane was long and narrow with muddy potholes and the front guide wheel had broken off en-route so I had to try and take the weight at the front on my arms. It took ages, but when it finally rolled around the corner & into that nettle filled garden - it looked nothing short of spectacular. I stood there and thought; this is the best idea ive ever had in my entire life.

Above: Me and Tolson pulling my new home down the lane.

Mr Khan found it a couple of days later and immediately came knocking on Tolsons door as both flats share the garden. We hid. Then later, Tolson explained to Khan how the caravan was given to him by his grandma as part of his inheritence. Mr Khan laughed, evidently relived, "Ha ha! I thought it was gypsys!" he said, "You know, you read in paper..."
So Mr Khan's fine about it, as long as Tolson is the 'owner'.

Above: Getting stuck in a muddy pothole for about 15 minutes.

The other night we had a finger buffet in the caravan to celebrate me getting the keys through the post (the previous owner forgot them when he delivered it) and also because it was the 6th of the 6th of the 6th. A finger buffet for the Dark Lord, if you like. I nearly choked to death on smoked oven grease in the kitchen cooking cocktail sausages in both ovens. I'd be lying if I didn't entertain my catholic guilt for a minute, but quickly put it out of my mind with booze. I even found an old Christmas tree down the lane, perfect for our anti-christmas fire. It went on until noon the next day, me and Tolson the only survivors. We were convinced that Mr Khan was going to come out any minute and find us, Tolson even took to hiding under the sink with the curtain pulled across his nervous face, I lay with one leg out the window, laughing uncontrolably at the prospect of getting caught. We cackled until our chest's hurt then went to the park.

Before too long we'll be taking the caravan with us. On tour, into fields, car parks, back gardens. Anywhere we can park a caravan, we can have a party. This is the beginning of 61 in the expanded field. We just need a generator and to hook up a sound system. Watch this space.