©
It took me ages to find a background this tasteful.
This page is the result of two unfortunate, but undeniable, facts:
1. I have a website.
2. I have a girlfriend.
International law states that I am therefore contractually obliged to create a page on said website dedicated to said girlfriend, featuring tender and touching declarations of my love, and preferably filled with animated gifs of pulsing hearts and flowers.
Unfortunately Lisa's not the romantic type.
(And also the place where the nude revenge photos will appear when she dumps me).
1.
The Gavin Smith Connection
Ah, Gavin Smith. What a man. With his aversion to capital letters and his dubious typing skills, Gavin entered my life on 25th November 2002. And stayed about 30 seconds. But like Cilla Black before him, he left in his wake a lasting legacy of love.
Kind of.
But enough about Gavin and Lisa, let's talk about me.
In 2001 I created the stonking website of musicality which is Hopes and Bodies. I'd owned a computer for a good ten months at this point, and felt I was more than qualified to put my vast knowledge of the internet to good use by creating a site about a band no one's ever heard of, and which no one will ever visit.
Unfortunately I had reckoned without some bird on the south coast. And I don't mean a seagull. More than 18 months after creating the site, a mysterious (and possibly drunk) figure wandered aimlessly into my guestbook and left this message...

Phil (Almighty Webmaster) 
Saturday, 12/7/02, 3:13 AM
Yeah Lisa, you tell him. Just who does this Mick think he is anyway?? He comes along here, refusing to express a preference - anyone would think he WROTE the songs. People like that make me sick.
From: 
Ipswich, God's Country
Favourite Senators song: Don't Mess Around With Me

The Journey
The wings of the white hawk beat at my back,
As I walk down the hill, the familiar track,
Of a route schooled in silence, a college prepared,
Passing pillar to post, leaving wishes unaired.
I turn at the corner, the gala in sight,
Heading west, crossing Eastern in monochrome light,
I walk up to Bedford and over and on,
Passing shelters and waiters and catchers and dons.
I’m too early, I stop, and I head for the arms,
Of the Leconfield, drinking in dubious charms,
Then it’s onward with Edward, higher learning and yon,
Passing George toward James, with my back turned on John.
The saint of the unkempt town, age no concern,
As I look for the safe way to mind and to learn,
Then it’s back home to Dorset, the jury’s still out,
To the scene of our courting, of reasonable doubt.
I look up and ahead to the scalable wall,
And you’re there and I see you, my heart starts to call,
I’ve come such a long way, you’ve come further still,
But I know that I love you, and evermore will.

(This is an American formatted guestbook, so that date is the 18th of November, and the time is 8 hours behind. I mention this, because at 12:44pm on a Monday, Lisa would have been at work, and clearly wouldn't be surfing the net, idly looking at music sites on her employer's time. No, really).
Notice how she claims to have come across The Senators on a cable music channel, then later claims never to have seen them on TV. Clearly this is a woman with major honesty issues, and very little grip on reality. I decided to steer well clear of her.
Told you he was a happy chappie.
Well, for someone who can't resist a bad joke at the best of times, typing of that calibre is like a red rag to a bull. And Lisa duly charged back in five days later...
It's at this point that fate stepped in, in the form of singer, songwriter, and better-looking half of The Senators, Mick Kitson, who attempted to give Lisa's comedy routine a bit of a lift with this pithy punchline...
Naturally, as a dedicated and lifelong fan of the band, Lisa completely failed to recognise the name 'Mick', and decided to have a go at one of her musical heroes in public...
... at which point I decided it was time to intervene...
Historical Note:
These were the first words I ever spoke (well, typed) to Lisa. I know, it IS touching.
The Nauseating Poetry Section
Enter Gavin Smith, Old Harrovian, would-be matchmaker, and certified happy chappie, who turned up a week later to say this...
(There's an American ice hockey team called the Ottawa Senators).
Less than eight hours later, and she was back...
I said yes. And then called a doctor.
Clearly this Lisa was not only a potty-mouth, but also a doubting Thomasina. But I remained calm, and patiently told her that I'd recognised his handwriting. Which went down well. Lisa has since told me that she only ever hung around my guestbook because I pissed her off so much. It's the ideal start to any relationship.
Lisa left a further two messages in my guestbook the following day - 10th December 2002 - but after I refused to be drawn into a protracted conversation about geography (and Tanita Tikaram), she left, and I heard nothing more from her for almost six months.