Back in London, meeting Eric the King and feeding plants

Been a while...but it has been a busy time since my return to civilization at the beginning of March. The film in Paris got wrapped and we had a farewell party. It was safe especially when Dita Von Teese turned up. Sadly I spread myself too thinly among the gallic ladies on the crew and ended up catching a taxi from Pigale back to the hotel with two hookers and a gram of coke. Or maybe not.

A highlight of my time in Paris was watching Shutter Island in a packed cinema brimming with French tension. Despite the mixed reviews I thought it was an excellent film accentuated by a first rate script, intelligent cinematography and Scorcese's usual brilliance.

Anyway so back in blighty and the honeymoon was over within a week. It's weird but whenever I leave England I quickly begin to pine for completely mundane aspects of British culture: draught beer, 'breakfast tea,' nice road signs and sarcastic self-deprecating humor. Even if I'm chilling out on a Brazilian beach or skiing in the Alps I clutch to a surreal, fictional image of London as some kind of urban paradise, surrounded by rolling green hills and genteel suburban towns.

Anyway since then life has been a haze of football, methedrone and green and gold...in that order. Events at Old Trafford have taken a bizarre turn with the world and his mother donning the colors of Newton Heath and rallying to oust the Glazers. Whilst the banner dropping and scarf twirling are all well and good I sadly remain unconvinced about our chances of victory. Since David Beckham wrapped himself in the colors of rebellion the protest has just felt wrong. Thousands of idiots continue to wear shit AIG shirts and fork huge sums of money on pies and luke warm Bud from the concourse at half time whilst sporting the G & G scarf. It's a bit like voting BNP and reading the Guardian.

Anyway I'm of the firm belief that the Glazers will hold onto United for the forceable future, throwing a couple of transfers Fergie's way over the summer to placate angry fans. They've already frozen season ticket prices for next season and encouraged members to join the fictional 'Waiting List.' If United end up doing well in Europe and winning the League again which looks likely, I don't expect a mass exodus of fans from OT. I for one won't renew but that's for financial reasons as well as moral.

On Sunday after the 2-1 victory over the dirties/bin dippers/vermin I 'found' Sir Eric Cantona having a fag outside the Manchester Hilton. I calmed my rapidly pulsating heart and walked over the the great man to ask for a photo. The combination of a come down and a strong desire to avoid being a twat meant that we exchanged only a few minor pleasantries, and I successfully resisted the temptation to hug my childhood hero and start singing "Let's raise a drink, a drink, a drink..."

Talking of come downs, Methedrone is suddenly all over the news. It's been implicated in the tragic deaths of a number of young adults and as usual the media have jumped onto a metaphorical band wagon of clueless outrage. The number of Reds taking a bag of 'Meeow' to games is now a depressingly common sight...instead of thousands of pissed up lads striking fear into the hearts of adversaries now all you see are balding men stumbling around gurning like idiots and falling over.

All jokes aside however I'm not so sure about 'meow.' Despite the views of reasoned organs such as The Economist, The Guardian and even The Spectator I would argue that drug prohibition works on the basis that it drives up cost whilst forcing quality down. As the recent Methedrone craze reveals, the moment a substance that costs less than a pint and is cleaner and purer than anything you can get illegally, becomes freely available all hell breaks loose. I've seen lads emptying packs of the stuff into water bottles and watched mates get through so much that it actually stops working. I've dabbled myself but because I'm a wise old sage it was never in huge quantities. Basically we humans can't be trusted, as creatures we are compelled to get as fucked as possible on any substance that distorts our psychological perception of reality, hence why all recreational drugs should be outlawed with immediate affect and Saudi Arabia's special brand of justice meted out to those who continue to flout the rules. Maybe.

Big week ahead what with a CL quarter final in Munich and Chelsea on Sat. I'm off skiing for Easter so am missing both games, but will be watching from afar with bated breath. Im thinking of booking a trip to Seville for the 22nd May...with a train to Madrid a definite option...but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Yet.