*cough splutter cough splutter*
The couhging and spluttering is much much better than it used to be. But its still there. A lt. When i cough, it still feels red raw. nothing I can do about this, but keep on taking the antibiotics (Erithyomicin, I think), and try not to over exert myself. Which means -
i)Not going on the works do last night (i didn't, though they did tell me what fun it was b ringing me from the pub and winding me up about having a throat infection. I wasn;t very happy about that, to be honest!)
ii)Not going on tonight, as I had originally planned. (I won't be)
What else has happened?
Went to dudley to see a friend and their nine month old son, george. he's lovely. But crawling everywhere.
Listening to my newish CD purchase of " "Picture of Perfect Youth" by Feeder - a 36 track, 2 hour plus, double CD compilation. of tracks never on an album before. Which is great If You're a fan, and shows that sometimes there best songs were originally just B-Sides. Added in with the other non-album tracks I have, thats now 66 B-sides. A bit too many for sense on the Mp3 list.Also, for a double CD, its bloofy cheap - £6.97 from Asda In its week of release. Thats certainly an impulse purchase, but a damn good one.
ta, cat.Hope the blogging here isn;t too tedious, too full of the usual narcissic stuff.. read your blog a couple of times, I'll come back to read you again.
had a lovely morning with someone whose really nice. Hopefully I'll see them again.First Date, and all that.
I'm hungry, its raining outside, anyone got any good ideas?
v)
Friday, March 30, 2007
I volunteered, and yay, I was even commanded. The hoardes of rock avalanche upon us...Erm... Actually, I've fulfilled my contribution to Swiss Tonis earworms, as can be found here .
Enjoy. Its more rocking than a quarry.
G x x x
Enjoy. Its more rocking than a quarry.
G x x x
Whoops, same answer as mark.
I feel much better, but I'm still ocughing and spluttering like a broken down car. I want to go back to bed, but there's things to be done. And it doesn;t involve spreading germs to my customers.
*cough splutter*
I feel much better, but I'm still ocughing and spluttering like a broken down car. I want to go back to bed, but there's things to be done. And it doesn;t involve spreading germs to my customers.
*cough splutter*
| What Be Your Nerd Type? Your Result: Musician Doo doo de doo waaaa doo de doo! (<-- That's you playing something.) Everyone appreciates the band/orchestra geeks and the pretty voices. Whether you sing in the choir, participate in a school/local band, or sit at home writing music, you contribute a joy to society that everyone can agree on. Yay! Welcome to actually doing something for poor, pathetic human souls. (Just kidding.) | |
| Literature Nerd | |
| Social Nerd | |
| Artistic Nerd | |
| Gamer/Computer Nerd | |
| Drama Nerd | |
| Anime Nerd | |
| Science/Math Nerd | |
| What Be Your Nerd Type? Quizzes for MySpace | |
IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc.)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool!
Now, I have fundamental problems with this meme. its very isolating, because you need a consumer product that costs £200+ to do it. So screw it, I'm gonna rev up the Internal Jukebox instead.
Opening Credits: "powqqatsi Anthem" - Philip Glass
Waking Up: "Wake Up" - Elastica (or Arcade Fire)
First Day At School: "The happiest Days Of our lives/ Brick 2" - Pink Floyd
Falling In Love: "Just Like Fred Astaire" - James
Fight Song: "Forkboy" - Lard
Prom: "A little misunderstanding" - the contours
Life: "God Only Knows" - The Beach Boys
Mental Breakdown: "One Of My Turns" - Pink Floyd
Driving: "Running Down a Dream" - Tom Petty And the Heartbreakers
Flashback: "Montage" - team America soundtrack
Getting Back Together: "Say Something" - james
Wedding: "Pure N Simple" - Hearsay (or a medley of "Please Release Me" by Def leppard and "You Suffer" by Napalm Death)
Birth of Child: "Belfast" - orbital
Final Battle: "Angel Of Death" - Slayer
Death Scene: "Ascent" - brian Eno.
Funeral Song: "The Host OF Serpahim" - Dead Can Dance
Remembrance Song: "Sanvean" - Lisa gerrard / "Kite" By U2
End Credits: "mr Blue Sky" - ELO
And if I may, a slight addition.
Joke After The End Credits: "Weld" - Neil Young
*ahem* the astute will note that the wedding reception i had, really did end, with a playback of... the Def Leppard / naplam Death medley. And the second song was "youre the one for me, fatty" by Morrissey. And you wonder why people say I have a strange sense of humour eh?
p.s. Not having an ipod i cant do the andom selection thing, so I chose the songs appropriately....
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc.)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool!
Now, I have fundamental problems with this meme. its very isolating, because you need a consumer product that costs £200+ to do it. So screw it, I'm gonna rev up the Internal Jukebox instead.
Opening Credits: "powqqatsi Anthem" - Philip Glass
Waking Up: "Wake Up" - Elastica (or Arcade Fire)
First Day At School: "The happiest Days Of our lives/ Brick 2" - Pink Floyd
Falling In Love: "Just Like Fred Astaire" - James
Fight Song: "Forkboy" - Lard
Prom: "A little misunderstanding" - the contours
Life: "God Only Knows" - The Beach Boys
Mental Breakdown: "One Of My Turns" - Pink Floyd
Driving: "Running Down a Dream" - Tom Petty And the Heartbreakers
Flashback: "Montage" - team America soundtrack
Getting Back Together: "Say Something" - james
Wedding: "Pure N Simple" - Hearsay (or a medley of "Please Release Me" by Def leppard and "You Suffer" by Napalm Death)
Birth of Child: "Belfast" - orbital
Final Battle: "Angel Of Death" - Slayer
Death Scene: "Ascent" - brian Eno.
Funeral Song: "The Host OF Serpahim" - Dead Can Dance
Remembrance Song: "Sanvean" - Lisa gerrard / "Kite" By U2
End Credits: "mr Blue Sky" - ELO
And if I may, a slight addition.
Joke After The End Credits: "Weld" - Neil Young
*ahem* the astute will note that the wedding reception i had, really did end, with a playback of... the Def Leppard / naplam Death medley. And the second song was "youre the one for me, fatty" by Morrissey. And you wonder why people say I have a strange sense of humour eh?
p.s. Not having an ipod i cant do the andom selection thing, so I chose the songs appropriately....
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Cough, Splutter, Cough, Splutter.
I stil don't feel well. I didn't leave the house yesterday, (I watched the donner cut of Superman II, which is an interesting curio - about 90% of the film it should be). All I've done is be ill, cough up lots of phleghm, and not be able to hold down a conversation without coughing for twenty or thirty seconds at a time. Last thign I want to do is pass on thsi bacterial infection to any of my customers. And I feel like shite.
I'm annoyed because YahooMail has appeared to gone down , in the midst of writing an email. Infuriating.
My head hurts, as is poundy. With a bit of luck, the email to Tim should have worked with the OhrWurms in it.
I don't hate myself today. I hate being ill.
I stil don't feel well. I didn't leave the house yesterday, (I watched the donner cut of Superman II, which is an interesting curio - about 90% of the film it should be). All I've done is be ill, cough up lots of phleghm, and not be able to hold down a conversation without coughing for twenty or thirty seconds at a time. Last thign I want to do is pass on thsi bacterial infection to any of my customers. And I feel like shite.
I'm annoyed because YahooMail has appeared to gone down , in the midst of writing an email. Infuriating.
My head hurts, as is poundy. With a bit of luck, the email to Tim should have worked with the OhrWurms in it.
I don't hate myself today. I hate being ill.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Im round a friends.
i feel very, very unwell. Everytime my throat convulses, its dry, and enflamed. A bacterial infection of the pharynx, Pharynx (the throat, us common laymen call it).
sod it, who wants some baby pictures instead? (its an old picture, but here it is. There's a couple more recent ones here LINK and here LINK . Apparently she looks like a little, tanned girl version of me, especially when she is asleep. Bless her)
"Some things slide by so carelessly...."
We all have Demons - the baggage - that which we carry with us that has made us into whatever we are today. . All that you can't leave behind. I have mine. They have a hold on me - a hold I can't seem to shake off. And I don't like it. I want to be freed of it, and I wish I was, but I I'm not.
I want to lose all that baggage and start again. As long as I keep on dragging it around, it will drag me down. It will keep me down. And I will never escape. I need to accept certain things which emotionally i had hinged my life around or depended on, such as that Scottish Girl, are no longer dependable. And try to leave it all behind, and rebuild. "just move on", she told me a while ago. And I thought I had. But obviously, by the reaction I have had, I haven't, have i?
The only way I can see to do that is to be completely detached. As emotional as stone, nothing to get in. I have enough trouble as it is, being as emotionally detached as I am which i am, closed off to everyone except one. The one who hurt me like she did. I couldn't accept the love of those who do love me, just let my love for someone else consume me, envelope me.... even when their love was gone, I still had love for them.
They could move on.I could not. What I loved about them hadnt changed. Who they loved had. So here I am, the one left behind, thinking of how to salvage something that doesn't exist any longer. Not anymore. But Here I am, stuck still in that limbo.
You can't control who your heart tells you to love, what direction it takes you in. Who your feelings develop for. How you feel when they let you down, when they let them go, when you let them go, when it all goes wrong. All I know is that its another one of those demons to carry with you, to carry around.
I'd be lying If I said I didn't miss her. I do. I'd be lying If I said I didn't regret it. I do. I regret every single thing It cost me, and she has no idea what she actually has cost. I regret ever hurting those people who loved me, who I couldn't love back, too busy being hung up on someone else. Someone I ain't gonna be with. See what a fool I've been...holding onto somethign so tight, you've already lost it.
Some things slide by so carelessly....
Sometimes I wonder just how I function. Sometimes I feel like I always, but always need a crisis. Something to keep me on the toes, something to keep me driven, somethign to keep my life interested. Somethign to provide me wiht an excuse, distraction therpay, if you like. to stop me being quite so complacent. I'm such a crisis driven individual, its untrue. It really is. I need someone to fixate upon for a while, someone to focus on, some crisis to hinge my life around. Someone to provide me with a reason for this otherwise empty existence. Some emotional connection to hang off of. Its definitely unhealthy, but its what I do. I recognise it. I wish It wasn't this way, but it is. I've done it for as long as I can remember.
I don't need nobody else. But I do, just to provide an impetus. And there she was, someone to get all hung up. Just like that Madonna song. Didn;t need to. Didn;t want to. Didn't have to. but emotionally, I did. Dangerous thing to admit. And there she was, someone who I geniuinely missed and loved. But i suppsoed I loved and missed the idea of who she was, of what she meant, more than who she actually was. And as long as she was there, there wasn't room for ANYONE else. And that wasn;t fair on anyone, not on the ones who fell in love with me, wasn't fair on me, and she who caused all this, didn't even know it. And me? I Did it without knowing, didn't feel a thing, Just wrecked it and kept going....
Just another demon to lump on my back, along with all the others I can't shake off. The ones I never will shake off. The past, thats what those demons are. The process that has made me into whatever the hell I am. An adult searching out, reaching out, for a basic, human connection - and then recoiling away from it because I can't accept the love others have for me when I have no love for myself, and recoiling away because I cannot accept that love, lest I open up myself and then get hurt.
God, its getting boring. There is much to change,.a long long way to go, yet I don't feel like I've made any progress at all. I I just feel like there's no way forward, emotionally.I know there is though, but I feel like I am stuck in a similar place to where I was 10, 11 years ago. Hung up on someone whose moved on, unable to meet anyone new, just stuck in a rut I can't get out of. Like a record stuck in infite loop, the needle endlessly skimming around on the outside whilst life passes me by, minute by minute, day by day ....week in week out. year In, year out.
I wanna take this life back to the shop, and get a refund. its clearly not working out as it should.
One of the perils of working with the general public is that sometimes, they tell you things that you really either don't want to know, or need to know. Embarassing personal details, medical minutae, that sort of thing. Sometimes I feel more like a social worker, a counsellor, a confidante, than what i actually do. because when they trust you, they confide in you. Whether you want them to or not.
So last week when the woman across the other side of the counter leaned forward and spoke to me she said.."I've something to tell you", , You can usually predict what they are going to say to a certain extent.. (Depending on the clientele, sometimes its 'I'm pregnant', which seems to happen on a daily basis.... Sometimes its 'I've just got out of prison'. Told you it was predictable.)
She says "I've not been very well, i've had a bit of a bug", I make a joke of it, and just responded with "well, best you stay that side of the counter i feel like shit.then". Before leaning back...
It didn't help. I'm off work with a viral infection; and its since upgraded itself to a bacterial infection. So the doc gave me a script for some antibiotics. The symptoms are, incidentally - sore throat, difficulty swallowing, coughing fits, temeprate fluctuations, interrupted and intermittent sleeping, headfuzz, occasional stomach aches, muscle spasms (my right leg is trembling like a detoxing wino) and altered evacuation of solids. (There really is no pleasant way to describe that).gee, thanks for that ma'am.
Oh, crap. As Hellboy would say.Occupational hazard of working with the general public, I guess. Last thing I wanna do is go back to work and infect anyone else, so I might not be in until next week at this rate. if I feel this bad.Which I do.
i feel like shit.I'm going back to bed in a bit. Well, i wish I could...I'm too ill to sleep.
Monday, March 26, 2007
It's 8.54AM On Monday morning when i get up. Its bright outside, and a small trace of panic runs into my mind. And then...
I'm really glad I booked the day off.
(NOTE: Some of you may notice this post has chnaged slightly - I have just re-edited it to include the stuff I wrote at home and haven't loaded in before)
Firstly, Friday night was my 'mock' leaving do. I was originally supposed to leave the job on Friday - end of contract - and instead, they extended it. So What I did was have a leaving do where I didn't actually leave. And today would have been the first day of me not working, so Ibooked the day off as a taster. And its been a beautiful day.
I also booked the day off for a couple of other reasons...
Firstly, the clock change. Like jet lag,it messes you up for a bit, and you need a day to get over it. So I booked Monday off, just to adjust...and because I was anticipating having a long and difficult phone call last night, which didn't materialise. People need to answer the phone to do that. So But I built myself up to a difficult call and then, it was no call at all.
Instead, I stuck on a movie as I pottered. it was in no particular order 'The Hunt For Red October' (terrible effects) and then/....'L.A. takedown' (aka, michael Manns protoype TV movie version of heat. Very dated, but very stylish).
I filed away some stuff which had been hanging around for weeks waiting for me to do it. Tided the kitchen, did the washing up, that sort of thing.
I have the flu and a cold. I hate it. The coughing in the middle of the night is just...damn inconvienient.
Saturdya night was the first saturday night I had spent in in a while. I need to go out less, and I think I will go out less. its got to be a small problem, and I hate it. Just needs to be under control. Which coming for a normally tee totaller like me, is a strange thing to have to admit.. But there again Alchohol is the fourth most dangerous drug in the word, apparently . I felt unwell saturday. I couldn't sleep. I'd hardly ate. It's nobody fault but mine. I shouldn't have been drinking on Friday night, but I did. I hate the position it puts me in, so I need to stop going out so much. I was walking around town and realised that as all I'd eaten in seven hours was a bacon sandwich, and I hadn't eaten the night before (except for a pastry slice) - I needed to eat. I didn't really need a Burger King, but I did have one. I was surprised to see they still sold stuff in "Super" size; the kind of thing I though Morgan Spurlock had put paid to. I didn't quite feel fat enough at the end of it.
I spent too much money - Bus Pass, £10 in iceland on food, £10 on assorted Cds and books - such as the belle du jour diary, which is certainly gripping my attention more than Invisible Monsters; a metalhammer covered mounted DVD full of ridiculously over the top, utterly hilarious, european battle metal#; sort of like Manowar without the Irony and so forth. However, food and travel are unavoidable expenditures. I went home, and stayed in. Its the first saturday night in about four weeks I've stayed in.Fact is, i even had the chance to go out - an allnighter at Nottingham Rock City - and turned it odwn, on grounds of money. Probably a good thing, as I am feeling utterly, utterly rubbish.
Just the Flu, they say in The Stand. I've felt unwell, because a hangover and a cold don't mix.its the clock change, and I hate that clock change. I really do - an hour gone.I hate the turn back even more. I stayed on the phone to giles for hours, and it was a very interesting conversation - the usual topics, but interesting. I moved the locks forward, and slept.
Monday I awoke late; I was very very glad I had taken the day off. Clock change and all that. I've had a rubbish week, and It was one of those days when a single text message could cheer you up immensely. Which it did. A text message from someone very nice indeed.....Anyway, went went to the library, did a spot of shopping (not like anyone needs to know that I desperately needed toilet roll, bread, and stuff for sandwiches), and came home.I planned my earworms for the end of the week very , very carefully, which i must write up shortly. And talked through something with giles, and did the kitchen. Yes, it really, really needed doing. So I washed all the syrfaces, re-arranged the cupboards, catalogued what groceries I have in stock, did all the washing up... took a couple of hours, but It was done. A couple of phone calls later, and one rash impulsive consumer purchase MP3 player later, it was time for bed.
I love spring. Its my favourite time of year, it really is.
Just the usual day to day stuff. Move along, nothing to see.....
P.S. looks like the BBC need to do a spot better a job at photoshop that this above.... but hang on, its not the BBC that have done it, its getty images which manipulated the image (Look at this page and type in the reference 73654979. (I love the way its not actually aligned to the paper you see...and its all in Arial font!)
P.p.S. Other stuff -
i)Spike Lee 9 movie DVD box set in virgin - £20. I haven't bought it, by the way. the movies are ; Mo' Better Blues, Jungle Fever, Clockers, Crooklyn, School Daze, She Hates Me, Do the Right Thing, Get On the Bus, and Inside Man . Or you can buy Inside Man on its own for £5 instead. Hmmm)
ii)Quite possibly the finest link i've posted here ina while.... CLICK HERE for reams and reams of full albums as mp3s' (mostly rock/metal/punk though). Just stumbled across whilst googling something else...Which was tracklistings for an album by Chimaira (more mp3s and so forth of them, here . very metal).
I'm really glad I booked the day off.
(NOTE: Some of you may notice this post has chnaged slightly - I have just re-edited it to include the stuff I wrote at home and haven't loaded in before)
Firstly, Friday night was my 'mock' leaving do. I was originally supposed to leave the job on Friday - end of contract - and instead, they extended it. So What I did was have a leaving do where I didn't actually leave. And today would have been the first day of me not working, so Ibooked the day off as a taster. And its been a beautiful day.
I also booked the day off for a couple of other reasons...
Firstly, the clock change. Like jet lag,it messes you up for a bit, and you need a day to get over it. So I booked Monday off, just to adjust...and because I was anticipating having a long and difficult phone call last night, which didn't materialise. People need to answer the phone to do that. So But I built myself up to a difficult call and then, it was no call at all.
Instead, I stuck on a movie as I pottered. it was in no particular order 'The Hunt For Red October' (terrible effects) and then/....'L.A. takedown' (aka, michael Manns protoype TV movie version of heat. Very dated, but very stylish).
I filed away some stuff which had been hanging around for weeks waiting for me to do it. Tided the kitchen, did the washing up, that sort of thing.
I have the flu and a cold. I hate it. The coughing in the middle of the night is just...damn inconvienient.
Saturdya night was the first saturday night I had spent in in a while. I need to go out less, and I think I will go out less. its got to be a small problem, and I hate it. Just needs to be under control. Which coming for a normally tee totaller like me, is a strange thing to have to admit.. But there again Alchohol is the fourth most dangerous drug in the word, apparently . I felt unwell saturday. I couldn't sleep. I'd hardly ate. It's nobody fault but mine. I shouldn't have been drinking on Friday night, but I did. I hate the position it puts me in, so I need to stop going out so much. I was walking around town and realised that as all I'd eaten in seven hours was a bacon sandwich, and I hadn't eaten the night before (except for a pastry slice) - I needed to eat. I didn't really need a Burger King, but I did have one. I was surprised to see they still sold stuff in "Super" size; the kind of thing I though Morgan Spurlock had put paid to. I didn't quite feel fat enough at the end of it.
I spent too much money - Bus Pass, £10 in iceland on food, £10 on assorted Cds and books - such as the belle du jour diary, which is certainly gripping my attention more than Invisible Monsters; a metalhammer covered mounted DVD full of ridiculously over the top, utterly hilarious, european battle metal#; sort of like Manowar without the Irony and so forth. However, food and travel are unavoidable expenditures. I went home, and stayed in. Its the first saturday night in about four weeks I've stayed in.Fact is, i even had the chance to go out - an allnighter at Nottingham Rock City - and turned it odwn, on grounds of money. Probably a good thing, as I am feeling utterly, utterly rubbish.
Just the Flu, they say in The Stand. I've felt unwell, because a hangover and a cold don't mix.its the clock change, and I hate that clock change. I really do - an hour gone.I hate the turn back even more. I stayed on the phone to giles for hours, and it was a very interesting conversation - the usual topics, but interesting. I moved the locks forward, and slept.
Monday I awoke late; I was very very glad I had taken the day off. Clock change and all that. I've had a rubbish week, and It was one of those days when a single text message could cheer you up immensely. Which it did. A text message from someone very nice indeed.....Anyway, went went to the library, did a spot of shopping (not like anyone needs to know that I desperately needed toilet roll, bread, and stuff for sandwiches), and came home.I planned my earworms for the end of the week very , very carefully, which i must write up shortly. And talked through something with giles, and did the kitchen. Yes, it really, really needed doing. So I washed all the syrfaces, re-arranged the cupboards, catalogued what groceries I have in stock, did all the washing up... took a couple of hours, but It was done. A couple of phone calls later, and one rash impulsive consumer purchase MP3 player later, it was time for bed.
I love spring. Its my favourite time of year, it really is.
Just the usual day to day stuff. Move along, nothing to see.....
P.S. looks like the BBC need to do a spot better a job at photoshop that this above.... but hang on, its not the BBC that have done it, its getty images which manipulated the image (Look at this page and type in the reference 73654979. (I love the way its not actually aligned to the paper you see...and its all in Arial font!)
P.p.S. Other stuff -
i)Spike Lee 9 movie DVD box set in virgin - £20. I haven't bought it, by the way. the movies are ; Mo' Better Blues, Jungle Fever, Clockers, Crooklyn, School Daze, She Hates Me, Do the Right Thing, Get On the Bus, and Inside Man . Or you can buy Inside Man on its own for £5 instead. Hmmm)
ii)Quite possibly the finest link i've posted here ina while.... CLICK HERE for reams and reams of full albums as mp3s' (mostly rock/metal/punk though). Just stumbled across whilst googling something else...Which was tracklistings for an album by Chimaira (more mp3s and so forth of them, here . very metal).
Saturday, March 24, 2007
I said I didn't want to talk about Thursday night. Friday night wasn't much better. But on the other hand, I slept magnificently.
I'm having a bitch of a time at the moment.
Thursday I took the advice of a friend, and had a couple of drinks after the big shock of Wednesday night; you know, the one where the woman who planned to move in with you and have kids moves in with the lesbian lover of two weeks? Thats a bit of a blow to the self-esteem, that is. Scottish Girl even wanted me to talk to them (the lesbian lover) on the phone the other night, but I didn't ring Scottish Girl to do that. This other person may be part of her life, but I'm not part of this starngers life and I don't want to be.,
And then, I had a phone call - very unexpectedly - from the police. My ex-wife has accused me of sending her abusive text messages (I did text her, telling her she would have to pay for the divorce and could she please hurry up. Maybe i shouldn't text her when drunk, then; I remember being terse and a little upset, but I don't remember being explicitly threatening), and then went squealing off to the police about it. Like a kid in a playground getting teacher.
I'm very displeased at this meddling. Isn't she grown up enough to fight her own battles? No? Oh, quelle surprise. Last time she ended up running off to get someone else to meddle and interfere in things between us, to fight her battles for her. She was pretty good at fighting her own battles, after all smacked me around and then called the police and told them I did it to her, so I ended up in the cells. Didn't do our relationship any good, and the thing is this: most problems two people have, can be sorted out with and between those two people. the second you get someone else to interfere, its doomed. Doomed beyond belief. And its nobody else's business but between me and her, and her usual resort of threatening me with the big stick is just pointless and puerile.
It also completely violates the procedures for normal reporting of nusiance or abusive messages for her network, incidentally. 3 nusiance texts or phonecalls are logged internally, then the network get the police involved. Not one message, but three. And I didn't threaten her, so For fucks sake, whats the beef here?
Oh, I get it. Its her getting the authorities involved in a domestic matter that infuriates me here. No one elses business, and its yet another time when she's tried to fuck me over for no other reason except that she can. Its about control over me; getting other people to do the work, when she's too chickenshit to get her hands dirty. Its about making she is untouchable, beyond reproach, beyond accountability. Its about making sure she gets away scott free for stealing over £3000 worth of my stuff that didn't even belong to her, and then making sure I can't od a damn thing about it. And you wonder why I don't like her....
I asked the policeman about the £3000 worth of my property that went missing when she moved. he told me it's a civil matter. So in other words - - send a text message, and you'll get nicked; but Steal £3000 worth of someones belongings, and we won't lift a finger.
Fucking absurd, ludicrous and its beyond parody.it really is.
I slept great after that. Like I haven't slept in a long time. Sometimes a drunk sleep is just a completely different expereience to normal sleep. Deep, uninterrupted. I think I understood the meaning of the phrase 'drinking yourself to sleep' that night.
Friday, I went to work. A busy day, and then went to the pub after work. People kept buyign pints and sticking them in front of me. At least the 60's,70's and 80's disco they had played 'Dancing In the Dark' by Bruce Springsteen, which I was really really pleased to hear....but By the 5th pint, I felt extremely unwell, left another untouched pint in the pub and went home because I felt terrible. I could tell there was a hangover in the post waiting to be devliered the next day, thats why I left. Fortunately, the bus turned up straight away, and as did the second one I needed to catch. So I got home in twenty minutes, rather than an hour. Thank god, because If It hadn't turned up straight away, I would have been in trouble - I was starting to wobble. I certainly was when within the flat. I had only bought one of the rounds, and having not eaten didn't help. I got home to find broken pastry all over the plastic bag of shopping I was carrying, as I had run off to get some food mid pint. And eaten one of the two bacon and cheese slices. The other crumbled all over the bag, the can of generic energy drink, and the filched pint glass that I really, really liked. Dammit, i'm turning into my dad; I once swore I'd never take pint glasses from pubs, because thats what old men do, and now I'm doing it myself.
I still don't feel too good, mind you... and I got up at 7AM. For gods sake. Even the miracle cure of a bacon sandwich hasn't solved the feeling unwell, dammit!
I hate myself for being like this. Getting drunk like an idiot.
I tinkered around with the template, but stupidly forgot to retain the existing one. Crap. I would love to fix the sidebar so the background colour is less obtrusive, and doesn't cut off the pictures I post up, but its not having it. Anyone got any ideas on how to do it? My knowledge of the dark arts of HTMl and CSS isn't as exhaustive as I'd hoped....
I really am having a bloody dreadful week, aren't i? I give myself away, give my heart away too quick to people who don't deserve it, and keep it closed to the people who do love me. I turn the people who love me away, and the ones who don't i hang onto like a stupidly loyal, persistent puppy dog.But at least for now, I am no longer bound by my foolish loyalty. Sometimes I should just let go, and close this heart of mine to anyone forever.
At least that way it won't hurt quite so much.
p.S. I did have some links here, but just as i cut and pasted it, the pC did a restart and so I lost them. Dammit. try for one of my favorite and most used sites . Or this for Nicko Mcbrain in the Nick!
Friday, March 23, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
"Why I see her face in a million stars, I'm wondering
thought I had good taste 'til I found I'd none at all
nearly did appear as the asshole of the year
and then she strikes...and now I'm back, the guy I've been, before the idiot sat in"
Aaaargh.
I feel utterly suckerpunched by whats happened. utterly. What a fool I've been. I could wallow in my self pity for a long long time (which would be bad), or I could instead just realise I've been played like a piano, and a fool.
I'm sorry to all those people I;ve hurt. Often i bumble along without realising just how hurtful I can be...until I get hurt myself.
take care y'all
Graham x
ME! Me! me me me me! ME! ME! ME ME!
(me)
As you can see, I changed the name of the blog, and the style. Felt like a change, Thats all. Nothing too major. I changed it to 'I, Blogger' for a bit - 'I, Brummie' being very paroiachial, I'm not feeling very birmingham right now. 'I, Blogger' went unnoticed pretty much, but 'tiny sins', I got good feedback from that one. And So, I've kept it. (to the person who sent me that email? Yes,thanks. i understand precisely why you decided what you did)
My sins are, in the grand scheme of things, not the biggest sins in the world. I've made mistakes, we all do, and I'm no different.I'd be fool to pretend otherwise. But my sins? Tiny. The occasional bit of adultery in its strictest sense, that sort of thing. Never killed anyone, never murdered anyone, never started an unneccessary and illegal war, never been in a car crash, never defrauded the government of millions of pounds by private finance initiative, never caused misery for others by the powers of bureaucracy.... No, my sins are Tiny, by comparison.
I know I'm upset by what has happened recently. But in a way, no longer am I bound by whatever feelings I have - I am freed. Freed from the committment she might expect, or I might have felt bound and obligated to perform. As someone said, I like the hold she has over me for as long as I still want her, there is no room for ANYONE else. Sadly, they might be right to a certain extent, but... I hate the hold they have over me. A hold I am now freed from, I hope.
(me)
As you can see, I changed the name of the blog, and the style. Felt like a change, Thats all. Nothing too major. I changed it to 'I, Blogger' for a bit - 'I, Brummie' being very paroiachial, I'm not feeling very birmingham right now. 'I, Blogger' went unnoticed pretty much, but 'tiny sins', I got good feedback from that one. And So, I've kept it. (to the person who sent me that email? Yes,thanks. i understand precisely why you decided what you did)
My sins are, in the grand scheme of things, not the biggest sins in the world. I've made mistakes, we all do, and I'm no different.I'd be fool to pretend otherwise. But my sins? Tiny. The occasional bit of adultery in its strictest sense, that sort of thing. Never killed anyone, never murdered anyone, never started an unneccessary and illegal war, never been in a car crash, never defrauded the government of millions of pounds by private finance initiative, never caused misery for others by the powers of bureaucracy.... No, my sins are Tiny, by comparison.
I know I'm upset by what has happened recently. But in a way, no longer am I bound by whatever feelings I have - I am freed. Freed from the committment she might expect, or I might have felt bound and obligated to perform. As someone said, I like the hold she has over me for as long as I still want her, there is no room for ANYONE else. Sadly, they might be right to a certain extent, but... I hate the hold they have over me. A hold I am now freed from, I hope.
"Could of had it all, could have walked in the sky but we stare at the wall...."
I am incredibly, intensely furious. I feel a sense of betrayal like I haven't felt in a long long time, and a sense of incredible, unrestrained anger.
I'm normally a extremely restarined person, though It doesn't come out here in the blog.This is where all the stuff comes out, so In my normal world I can be sane, normal and well... not mr. Angry. Well, tonight I am angry.I feel a betrayal thats been unparallelled in a long long time.
I had the news in giles car. I just said to him 'I want to go straight home, if thats ok". My mood changed like a light switch, to sour , to betrayal, tremendous betrayal. Thats how it feels.
There's someone I love. I haven't stopped loving her. I never have. I felt like she was always the one who got away, the one who I should have been with. And we were together, for a bit. It just went wrong. Its not a issue whos to blame, It just happened. We talked about living together, of having children, of being together. And now, that may never happen. probably never will. I splurged a lot of hurt here about her, and I don't know what else to say. Too fucked to fight, too tired to do anything, I feel like I haven't nothing left to give anyone. I just feel.....betrayed. Fucked over.
Scottish Girl, I called her.
(Its not a very good picture - I found it on a pdf of work document I googled, and this is the picture thats been blown up from it)
I know boo hoo - but I've known her for six or seven years. Even back then, she wanted me to be with her. She said to me, years later... "why did you move in with her? Isn't what we had enough? Why didn't you move to london with me?" Believe me, i would, if only I had known the offer was there. She never mentioned it.Oh, and now the boot is on the other foot. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and it is very, very cold in Scotland.
I explained I had moved in with a woman because I had been made homeless, but she never mentioned it. Words, thats all they were. maybe. I don't know. But i wanted it. I felt so highly for her. She was the one I always wondered, 'What if?', the one who got away, the one who I let slip through my fingers... and for what? For what good cause?
None at all. Its utterly senseless.
In 2005, I met here again. Random happenstance, coincidence, whatever you want to call it. We tried to make it work. It didn't and the only person I can blame, really, is me. But I didn't stop loving her. Circumstances just went against us. No point raking it over the coals. We planned ahead - to have children, to live together, because we loved each other. And despite my best efforts, my love for her hasn't gone away. Its still there. It hasn't gone away. I'm stupidly, doggedly loyal, to the point of self-sacrifice sometimes, and when I fall in love with someone, it doesn't go away. It stays around.I've never loved someone so much. Not even my wife - with her it was desperation/thannk god I've found someone/Sense of relief love.
Anyway, Scottish girl got in touch with me. She's moved out of her moms, at long last. Only took her 34 years. She moved in with someone she's been seeing for three weeks. THREE fucking weeks.
Maybe I'd understand it a little better if I'd been dumped for a bloke instead.
I wouldn't mind so much, but all this time, Its been what I've wanted. Because my love for her doesn't go away, doesn't die. its persistent, its that which survives. LiKe anthrax and cockroaches. Everything I loved about her then is there still now, only more. I saw her only two weeks ago, and she looked fantastic. Instead she did it in a rush (because her mom finally discovered Scottish Girl liked...erm.. girls too). So it was a desperation move. Much like me when I needed to move out and i moved in with my wife.
But It hurts, it really fucking hurts. It really does. Because its me that should be in that bed. Its me who she should be putting her arms around at night. Its her I should be waking up with, not anyone else. It should be our life together. I never told Scottish Girl how much I loved her still. She never knew. I always wrote these long letters, and never posted them. So scared of losing it, of ruining it forever that , erm, well, I lost if forever.
I know rationally, It shouldn't be this way. I know rationally, I should give up the ghost a long time ago. Sense and sensibility, logic and rationality, they don't speak as loud as the heart. They don't listen to such reason. or logic. They just are. And they are all I'm feeling at the moment. Hurt and Betrayal, intense betrayal, of a love that should be, that was planned years ago, of what we had... thrown away. How can what she has had for three weeks match up to what she and I had had for years? Honestly? Scottish Girl has a row with her mom, her mom moves her out, and she finds a place with the girlfriend because she had nowhere else to go. Thats a move of desperation, not of love. Not of what we had. No wonder I feel anger. But the feeling I have is the trust I had, of the years I've invested into this, just thrown away,. Was it all for nothing? All of it? Obviously. I don't know what it meant to her, but I know what it meant to me. If she had had the right trigger, it could have been so different, but I obviously never forced the issue, did i? Mind you, I have no interest in coercion. It was her pace; and her pace for change is seemingly set to mogadon.
Its all I've wanted, all I've worked for - and she threw it all away and doesn't even know what she's done.I don't think she does, or could know.I don't think she appreciates just quite what she's done to me. i feel like I've been emotionally torn up and thrown away like so much trash.
I know exactly what Mark will say, and please - spare me. it won't make the hurt go away just to have you say 'I told you so, blah blah blah.'. I know how i feel. i know how huirt I am. I just wish I hadn't lost her.I just wish that I hadn't fallen in love with her, that it hadn't ended this way. it didn't have to.
At least I won't have to put up with the agony of longing, of the 'what if', of the unrequited any longer. But what consolation is it? None. None at all. I feel fucked, and worn outy, and like nothing I will ever do will ever work. it always ends in fucking tears. mine, mainly.
(Blah blah blah, change the record, blah blah blah...)
"It's the end of our small love
you'll have to find another no one who'll take the shit like I have
Well, i guess this is the end, i guess this is the end, oh well...."
I am incredibly, intensely furious. I feel a sense of betrayal like I haven't felt in a long long time, and a sense of incredible, unrestrained anger.
I'm normally a extremely restarined person, though It doesn't come out here in the blog.This is where all the stuff comes out, so In my normal world I can be sane, normal and well... not mr. Angry. Well, tonight I am angry.I feel a betrayal thats been unparallelled in a long long time.
I had the news in giles car. I just said to him 'I want to go straight home, if thats ok". My mood changed like a light switch, to sour , to betrayal, tremendous betrayal. Thats how it feels.
There's someone I love. I haven't stopped loving her. I never have. I felt like she was always the one who got away, the one who I should have been with. And we were together, for a bit. It just went wrong. Its not a issue whos to blame, It just happened. We talked about living together, of having children, of being together. And now, that may never happen. probably never will. I splurged a lot of hurt here about her, and I don't know what else to say. Too fucked to fight, too tired to do anything, I feel like I haven't nothing left to give anyone. I just feel.....betrayed. Fucked over.
Scottish Girl, I called her.
(Its not a very good picture - I found it on a pdf of work document I googled, and this is the picture thats been blown up from it)
I know boo hoo - but I've known her for six or seven years. Even back then, she wanted me to be with her. She said to me, years later... "why did you move in with her? Isn't what we had enough? Why didn't you move to london with me?" Believe me, i would, if only I had known the offer was there. She never mentioned it.Oh, and now the boot is on the other foot. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and it is very, very cold in Scotland.
I explained I had moved in with a woman because I had been made homeless, but she never mentioned it. Words, thats all they were. maybe. I don't know. But i wanted it. I felt so highly for her. She was the one I always wondered, 'What if?', the one who got away, the one who I let slip through my fingers... and for what? For what good cause?
None at all. Its utterly senseless.
In 2005, I met here again. Random happenstance, coincidence, whatever you want to call it. We tried to make it work. It didn't and the only person I can blame, really, is me. But I didn't stop loving her. Circumstances just went against us. No point raking it over the coals. We planned ahead - to have children, to live together, because we loved each other. And despite my best efforts, my love for her hasn't gone away. Its still there. It hasn't gone away. I'm stupidly, doggedly loyal, to the point of self-sacrifice sometimes, and when I fall in love with someone, it doesn't go away. It stays around.I've never loved someone so much. Not even my wife - with her it was desperation/thannk god I've found someone/Sense of relief love.
Anyway, Scottish girl got in touch with me. She's moved out of her moms, at long last. Only took her 34 years. She moved in with someone she's been seeing for three weeks. THREE fucking weeks.
Maybe I'd understand it a little better if I'd been dumped for a bloke instead.
I wouldn't mind so much, but all this time, Its been what I've wanted. Because my love for her doesn't go away, doesn't die. its persistent, its that which survives. LiKe anthrax and cockroaches. Everything I loved about her then is there still now, only more. I saw her only two weeks ago, and she looked fantastic. Instead she did it in a rush (because her mom finally discovered Scottish Girl liked...erm.. girls too). So it was a desperation move. Much like me when I needed to move out and i moved in with my wife.
But It hurts, it really fucking hurts. It really does. Because its me that should be in that bed. Its me who she should be putting her arms around at night. Its her I should be waking up with, not anyone else. It should be our life together. I never told Scottish Girl how much I loved her still. She never knew. I always wrote these long letters, and never posted them. So scared of losing it, of ruining it forever that , erm, well, I lost if forever.
I know rationally, It shouldn't be this way. I know rationally, I should give up the ghost a long time ago. Sense and sensibility, logic and rationality, they don't speak as loud as the heart. They don't listen to such reason. or logic. They just are. And they are all I'm feeling at the moment. Hurt and Betrayal, intense betrayal, of a love that should be, that was planned years ago, of what we had... thrown away. How can what she has had for three weeks match up to what she and I had had for years? Honestly? Scottish Girl has a row with her mom, her mom moves her out, and she finds a place with the girlfriend because she had nowhere else to go. Thats a move of desperation, not of love. Not of what we had. No wonder I feel anger. But the feeling I have is the trust I had, of the years I've invested into this, just thrown away,. Was it all for nothing? All of it? Obviously. I don't know what it meant to her, but I know what it meant to me. If she had had the right trigger, it could have been so different, but I obviously never forced the issue, did i? Mind you, I have no interest in coercion. It was her pace; and her pace for change is seemingly set to mogadon.
Its all I've wanted, all I've worked for - and she threw it all away and doesn't even know what she's done.I don't think she does, or could know.I don't think she appreciates just quite what she's done to me. i feel like I've been emotionally torn up and thrown away like so much trash.
I know exactly what Mark will say, and please - spare me. it won't make the hurt go away just to have you say 'I told you so, blah blah blah.'. I know how i feel. i know how huirt I am. I just wish I hadn't lost her.I just wish that I hadn't fallen in love with her, that it hadn't ended this way. it didn't have to.
At least I won't have to put up with the agony of longing, of the 'what if', of the unrequited any longer. But what consolation is it? None. None at all. I feel fucked, and worn outy, and like nothing I will ever do will ever work. it always ends in fucking tears. mine, mainly.
(Blah blah blah, change the record, blah blah blah...)
"It's the end of our small love
you'll have to find another no one who'll take the shit like I have
Well, i guess this is the end, i guess this is the end, oh well...."
Don't see Inland Empire.
Pretentious, indecipherable, unwatchable arthouse rubbish. You just didn't udnerstand it, they might say; and I say this - if anyone except David Lynch had made this, it would be dismissed as a immature artistic dead end devoid of any redeeming features whatsoever. And worst still, its the sort of film a digital presentation is wasted on, because the picture quality is incredibly, unbelieveably terrible. its like watching a JPEG of 512 pixels blown up to a cinema screen 30 feet high. Shot on a consumer digital camera, its got horrendous pixellation and of low quality. Its like watching a blown up MPEG you've downloaded from the next - its horrible and unwatchable, literally.
i can't think of a single redeeming feature of the entire film.I almost walked out of it, on numerous occasions. It was only the fact that my shopping was still in Giles car that stopped me. Though At one point I walked out to spend 10 minutes texting people, and I came in at pretty much the exact same point of the film. honestly.. its not that I don;t like arthouse, or slow, or intelligent highbrow movies; I love Koyaaniqatsi, Magnolia, the Fountain, even Soderbergh's Solaris. But this?
I had to restrain myself from shouting 'get on with it' at certain points; and I got so bored I even faked up prison tattoos on my knuckles during the end.Out of boredom, and the desire it would please at least, bloody end. Soon.
If anyone but Lynch had made it, it would be a laughing stock. Avoid, like the clap. Pretentious, unbelievable, self indulgent twaddle.
Inland Empire? Shit Sandwich. Utterly unredeemable, self-obsessed trash. Quite possibly the worst film i've ever seen. And I should know ; I've watched Final Destination 3.
Normal Service will resume.... eventually. There's a lot of harsh words to be said, and it will be upsetting. What i've learned today is quite simple, trust no one, never let anyone into that prison you call a heart - that way they can't hurt you.
Tomorrow's post will probably be a little terser than normal. I hope you understand why.
Pretentious, indecipherable, unwatchable arthouse rubbish. You just didn't udnerstand it, they might say; and I say this - if anyone except David Lynch had made this, it would be dismissed as a immature artistic dead end devoid of any redeeming features whatsoever. And worst still, its the sort of film a digital presentation is wasted on, because the picture quality is incredibly, unbelieveably terrible. its like watching a JPEG of 512 pixels blown up to a cinema screen 30 feet high. Shot on a consumer digital camera, its got horrendous pixellation and of low quality. Its like watching a blown up MPEG you've downloaded from the next - its horrible and unwatchable, literally.
i can't think of a single redeeming feature of the entire film.I almost walked out of it, on numerous occasions. It was only the fact that my shopping was still in Giles car that stopped me. Though At one point I walked out to spend 10 minutes texting people, and I came in at pretty much the exact same point of the film. honestly.. its not that I don;t like arthouse, or slow, or intelligent highbrow movies; I love Koyaaniqatsi, Magnolia, the Fountain, even Soderbergh's Solaris. But this?
I had to restrain myself from shouting 'get on with it' at certain points; and I got so bored I even faked up prison tattoos on my knuckles during the end.Out of boredom, and the desire it would please at least, bloody end. Soon.
If anyone but Lynch had made it, it would be a laughing stock. Avoid, like the clap. Pretentious, unbelievable, self indulgent twaddle.
Inland Empire? Shit Sandwich. Utterly unredeemable, self-obsessed trash. Quite possibly the worst film i've ever seen. And I should know ; I've watched Final Destination 3.
Normal Service will resume.... eventually. There's a lot of harsh words to be said, and it will be upsetting. What i've learned today is quite simple, trust no one, never let anyone into that prison you call a heart - that way they can't hurt you.
Tomorrow's post will probably be a little terser than normal. I hope you understand why.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Here I stand A Self made victim....
One of the wierd things about introspection is the fact you can never escape your past. i never will. it haunts me like a score of unpaid debts....
Do I let it make me who I am today, Do i let it rule me? Do I carry it around like a burden forever, it being that one thing in my past that I let define me... or not? I go on and on about it, because it is probably the most defining moment of my recent life.
Ah, my life story. Its not very interesting really. My own usual neuroses like we all have, a few other bits and pieces. So, lets see how my life could have turned out differently, shall i?
Well, lets say I leave university in summer 1994. (I did) Move back to Birmingham. (did that too) What should I have done? If i knew then what I know now, things would be very, very different.
Well, the best idea I could have had, was get myself onto the council housing list immeadiately. There were more council properties then, and less demand. Plus, the housing market was a different kettle of fish then. Of course, the rent would have been a mere £35 a week for a council flat back in those days - I was offered a flat in the same block under a housing association last year, at £78. Over double, at an average increase of about 12% a year - over three times the rate of inflation. Similarly, my current rent is about £50 a week, so I do wonder - anyone who tells you that Housing Associations are a good idea, I would just point out that 60% difference in rents being charged per property, and then you do the math.) Either way, What would have happened if I had got on the council housing list back in those days?
Well, I tell you ; I would have moved out, and had my own place. I would have probably not been in that job at Tempest where by gross wage was £125 a week for 42 hours a week. Or, lets put it another way - £2.91 an hour. Shitty, really. After tax, that was £105.91. Crappy. I can't believe I ever got out of bed for that little. Then I worked for Tower at £4.12 an hour - a fortune by comparison, and then after that I went to a call centre for and got a job paying a whopping £4.50 an hour. Believe me, i was loaded. Rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
And When I got my promotion up to £5.50 an hour - which took a year, and was in stages; I couldn't believe it. The joy I felt when my annual earnings bust over that £10k limit was quite pleasant, if truth be told. And then it all went pear shaped, courtesy of internet dependency, accumulating debts, decreasing work hours, health problems, no contingency money, and much much worse.
Now... if I had the council flat, what would have happened? I should have put my name down, and waited a few months, and then got a flat in a tower block somewhere. It would have been a start. And then, No one else could have made me homeless. No one but me. I would have grown up a little quicker, rather than being quite so dependent on a fragile and unstable relationship simply to be able to survive and to pay the rent. And then, what would have happened?
I wouldn't have run into the arms of the woman who would destroy me. Because I wouldn't have needed what she had - a roof over her head when i needed one.
I deceived myself when I married. For so long I had wanted it to be real, for the search and scrabbling in the dark for someone who would love me just as I was....I wanted that over. And So did she. And then it was over. Only it wasn't. Both of us had had enough of that endless search, and If I hadn't needed that room to live in, I would never have found myself in that desperate boat I found myself in a few years ago.
Of course, all of this is a moot point.I can't change a damn single bit of it. All I can do is wonder how different my life might have been, if only...if only... if. Oh well.
These regrets can tear you apart, if you let them. You can look around, and see all these younger people, who've achieved so much more in their shorter space on this planet than I have. Did they have the talent? Did they have the ability? the application? the drive? Theres people younger than me who've headlined the old Wembley Stadium, got two greatest hits albums out, played arena's, stadiums, sex scandals...god knows how much I've never experienced, and probably never will. There's someone I used to sit next to at secondary school who played Glastonbury with noe just one band, but two... and that was twelve years ago. Now he's a DJ on xfm. And me? I work for the Social, throwing money at the great unpaid. (I know, thats a little harsh as a description goes, but I think working as a DJ for XFM, playing Glastonbury, and being on the front cover of the NME is a little bit more glamourous)
Is this how I should measure my life? By everyone elses successes, their plasma screens and DTS encoders? Their fast cars and luxury apartments overlooking cities form 15 stories high? Their celebrity lifestyles, the lines of coke and the detox, the rehab and the £200 pair of sunglasses, the £1500 coat hanging in the wardrobe, the DVD of their stand up comedy tour, their appearance in the gossip columns and the inevitable instores signing their celebrity biographies? Or maybe even the fact they own a car? Not even just the right sort of car, even. (Is there a hint of bitterness, here?)
No, I don't measure life by these things. I could beat myself up for the rest of my life about the missed chances and the regrets. About assessing what other people have achieved in their lives to date that I'll probably never come close to: the book deals, the Tv contracts, the greatest hits albums.
The thing is, though; you can run to the other side of the world...and you know you'll never be able to escape yourself. The brain behind your eyes will never, ever go away, you'll never ever be able to escape yourself. Your demons, they always follow you. They will always haunt you. You can whitewash over these, but they don't go away. It'll always be the same person behind the eyes, no matter how much plastic surgery of the mind, the rhinoplasty of the past, that you attempt.
These regrets, they matter not. I can't change these things. Of course, if I had that much money and that much insulation from the real world, I wouldn't care. I'm sure that £80 million record contract with EMI would help soften the blow a little bit - or I could look over the bookshelf full of novels I've written, or the DVDs of the sitcoms I wrote and starred in for Channel 4....But would these mere material gains make me a better person? No. Can you judge how good someone is, simply by the number of rooms in their mansion? Or how expensive their car is? no. You can only judge who has been successful, who was in the right place at the right time, not the measure of the man. because, like I say, All you are is still the same old person you always were. All that has changed is the number of zeroes in the bank balance, and how expensive the bottle of wine is at the table.
Mere trappings, thats all they are. These things aren't happiness. Sure they remove a certain amount of doubt, of uncertainity from your mind - but they don't supply happiness in and of themselves.
I don't gauge myself by what I own, by the car I drive, by such things. I just myself by knowing as long as I have a roof over my head, food in the fridge... I am free in the truest sense of the word. Everyday I see things I want, but do I need them? No. So I put them back, And that frees me from them. What I do not need, i can live without. Such trappings of success are just that - a trap.
let me close my eyes instead, and let me see happiness of a good nights sleep, of waking up in my own bed. The happiness of being free from the worry, free from the constant self-scrutinisation and the aching hole inside you that says you are a failure, because you own the wrong carm, the wrong laminate flooring, the wrong polasma screen, from not fitting in and conforming to all that shit that those lifestyle magazines tell you you need - the £1500 leather coat, the £70 swiss army shirt, the latest gadgets and gizmos and status symbols fashion accessories. No, i am free from those worries. i do not consider myself a failure because I don;t have those thigns, because I have seen a a part of lfie which tells you what failure truly is.
Failure isn't sitting in an expensive restaurant and ordering the wrong kind of Rose wine. No, Failure is being sat in the foyer of a homeless hostel... and being turned away. Someone who even they can't help. it realigns your perceptions a hell of a lot. And it tells you a lot, if you are willing to learn from that experience. It tells you that you should let that which truly does not matter pass.
The opinions of others? Fitting into a narrow little catergory of social acceptance? these things don't matter. You can never make yourself happy by making someone else happy, never. You can never make yourself happy by shining a light up to your failings and telling yourself how much better everyone is at it. No, not at all. What you can make yourself happy by is removing that doubt, that worry, that anxiety away out of your lfie - by choosing not to let it pressure you. it has only got the power you give it. you give it no power, and it becomes meaningless, irrelevant, and it does not bother you any longer. You are free from that unhappiness and worry and fear of social exclusion. No longer bound to it like slave.
Happiness is a state of mind.A mindset. No amount of millions will deliver that. How to live like a millionaire, on fresh air, as the cliche goes.
A state of mind, thats all it is ever is. No matter how successful you are on paper, no matter how big your house... if you don't have that state of mind, you have nothing.
One of the wierd things about introspection is the fact you can never escape your past. i never will. it haunts me like a score of unpaid debts....
Do I let it make me who I am today, Do i let it rule me? Do I carry it around like a burden forever, it being that one thing in my past that I let define me... or not? I go on and on about it, because it is probably the most defining moment of my recent life.
Ah, my life story. Its not very interesting really. My own usual neuroses like we all have, a few other bits and pieces. So, lets see how my life could have turned out differently, shall i?
Well, lets say I leave university in summer 1994. (I did) Move back to Birmingham. (did that too) What should I have done? If i knew then what I know now, things would be very, very different.
Well, the best idea I could have had, was get myself onto the council housing list immeadiately. There were more council properties then, and less demand. Plus, the housing market was a different kettle of fish then. Of course, the rent would have been a mere £35 a week for a council flat back in those days - I was offered a flat in the same block under a housing association last year, at £78. Over double, at an average increase of about 12% a year - over three times the rate of inflation. Similarly, my current rent is about £50 a week, so I do wonder - anyone who tells you that Housing Associations are a good idea, I would just point out that 60% difference in rents being charged per property, and then you do the math.) Either way, What would have happened if I had got on the council housing list back in those days?
Well, I tell you ; I would have moved out, and had my own place. I would have probably not been in that job at Tempest where by gross wage was £125 a week for 42 hours a week. Or, lets put it another way - £2.91 an hour. Shitty, really. After tax, that was £105.91. Crappy. I can't believe I ever got out of bed for that little. Then I worked for Tower at £4.12 an hour - a fortune by comparison, and then after that I went to a call centre for and got a job paying a whopping £4.50 an hour. Believe me, i was loaded. Rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
And When I got my promotion up to £5.50 an hour - which took a year, and was in stages; I couldn't believe it. The joy I felt when my annual earnings bust over that £10k limit was quite pleasant, if truth be told. And then it all went pear shaped, courtesy of internet dependency, accumulating debts, decreasing work hours, health problems, no contingency money, and much much worse.
Now... if I had the council flat, what would have happened? I should have put my name down, and waited a few months, and then got a flat in a tower block somewhere. It would have been a start. And then, No one else could have made me homeless. No one but me. I would have grown up a little quicker, rather than being quite so dependent on a fragile and unstable relationship simply to be able to survive and to pay the rent. And then, what would have happened?
I wouldn't have run into the arms of the woman who would destroy me. Because I wouldn't have needed what she had - a roof over her head when i needed one.
I deceived myself when I married. For so long I had wanted it to be real, for the search and scrabbling in the dark for someone who would love me just as I was....I wanted that over. And So did she. And then it was over. Only it wasn't. Both of us had had enough of that endless search, and If I hadn't needed that room to live in, I would never have found myself in that desperate boat I found myself in a few years ago.
Of course, all of this is a moot point.I can't change a damn single bit of it. All I can do is wonder how different my life might have been, if only...if only... if. Oh well.
These regrets can tear you apart, if you let them. You can look around, and see all these younger people, who've achieved so much more in their shorter space on this planet than I have. Did they have the talent? Did they have the ability? the application? the drive? Theres people younger than me who've headlined the old Wembley Stadium, got two greatest hits albums out, played arena's, stadiums, sex scandals...god knows how much I've never experienced, and probably never will. There's someone I used to sit next to at secondary school who played Glastonbury with noe just one band, but two... and that was twelve years ago. Now he's a DJ on xfm. And me? I work for the Social, throwing money at the great unpaid. (I know, thats a little harsh as a description goes, but I think working as a DJ for XFM, playing Glastonbury, and being on the front cover of the NME is a little bit more glamourous)
Is this how I should measure my life? By everyone elses successes, their plasma screens and DTS encoders? Their fast cars and luxury apartments overlooking cities form 15 stories high? Their celebrity lifestyles, the lines of coke and the detox, the rehab and the £200 pair of sunglasses, the £1500 coat hanging in the wardrobe, the DVD of their stand up comedy tour, their appearance in the gossip columns and the inevitable instores signing their celebrity biographies? Or maybe even the fact they own a car? Not even just the right sort of car, even. (Is there a hint of bitterness, here?)
No, I don't measure life by these things. I could beat myself up for the rest of my life about the missed chances and the regrets. About assessing what other people have achieved in their lives to date that I'll probably never come close to: the book deals, the Tv contracts, the greatest hits albums.
The thing is, though; you can run to the other side of the world...and you know you'll never be able to escape yourself. The brain behind your eyes will never, ever go away, you'll never ever be able to escape yourself. Your demons, they always follow you. They will always haunt you. You can whitewash over these, but they don't go away. It'll always be the same person behind the eyes, no matter how much plastic surgery of the mind, the rhinoplasty of the past, that you attempt.
These regrets, they matter not. I can't change these things. Of course, if I had that much money and that much insulation from the real world, I wouldn't care. I'm sure that £80 million record contract with EMI would help soften the blow a little bit - or I could look over the bookshelf full of novels I've written, or the DVDs of the sitcoms I wrote and starred in for Channel 4....But would these mere material gains make me a better person? No. Can you judge how good someone is, simply by the number of rooms in their mansion? Or how expensive their car is? no. You can only judge who has been successful, who was in the right place at the right time, not the measure of the man. because, like I say, All you are is still the same old person you always were. All that has changed is the number of zeroes in the bank balance, and how expensive the bottle of wine is at the table.
Mere trappings, thats all they are. These things aren't happiness. Sure they remove a certain amount of doubt, of uncertainity from your mind - but they don't supply happiness in and of themselves.
I don't gauge myself by what I own, by the car I drive, by such things. I just myself by knowing as long as I have a roof over my head, food in the fridge... I am free in the truest sense of the word. Everyday I see things I want, but do I need them? No. So I put them back, And that frees me from them. What I do not need, i can live without. Such trappings of success are just that - a trap.
let me close my eyes instead, and let me see happiness of a good nights sleep, of waking up in my own bed. The happiness of being free from the worry, free from the constant self-scrutinisation and the aching hole inside you that says you are a failure, because you own the wrong carm, the wrong laminate flooring, the wrong polasma screen, from not fitting in and conforming to all that shit that those lifestyle magazines tell you you need - the £1500 leather coat, the £70 swiss army shirt, the latest gadgets and gizmos and status symbols fashion accessories. No, i am free from those worries. i do not consider myself a failure because I don;t have those thigns, because I have seen a a part of lfie which tells you what failure truly is.
Failure isn't sitting in an expensive restaurant and ordering the wrong kind of Rose wine. No, Failure is being sat in the foyer of a homeless hostel... and being turned away. Someone who even they can't help. it realigns your perceptions a hell of a lot. And it tells you a lot, if you are willing to learn from that experience. It tells you that you should let that which truly does not matter pass.
The opinions of others? Fitting into a narrow little catergory of social acceptance? these things don't matter. You can never make yourself happy by making someone else happy, never. You can never make yourself happy by shining a light up to your failings and telling yourself how much better everyone is at it. No, not at all. What you can make yourself happy by is removing that doubt, that worry, that anxiety away out of your lfie - by choosing not to let it pressure you. it has only got the power you give it. you give it no power, and it becomes meaningless, irrelevant, and it does not bother you any longer. You are free from that unhappiness and worry and fear of social exclusion. No longer bound to it like slave.
Happiness is a state of mind.A mindset. No amount of millions will deliver that. How to live like a millionaire, on fresh air, as the cliche goes.
A state of mind, thats all it is ever is. No matter how successful you are on paper, no matter how big your house... if you don't have that state of mind, you have nothing.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
1. What time is it?
20.09
2. What is your full name?
Graham (no way am i telling you that embarassing middle name) Reed
3. What are you most afraid of?
Drowning, and spiders.
4. What is the most recent movie that you have seen?
The good Shepard.
5. Have you ever seen a ghost?
Yes
6. Where were you born?
Birmingham
7. Ever been to Alaska?
no, its cold
8. Ever been toilet papering ?
yep. now if only i knew what it meant
9. Loved someone so much it made you cry?
Yes
10. Been in a serious car accident?
no
11. Do you plan to have any more children?
I enjoy the practicing
12. Favourite day of the week?
Friday
13. Favourite restaurant? .
one by the quayside in Ayr, Scotland.
14. Favourite Flower/s?
wild
15. Favourite colour?
metallic Teal.
16. Favourite sport to watch?
nude poker. oh hang on...
17. Favourite Drink?A one Armed Scissor - Red Bull, vodka.
18. Favourite Ice cream?
mint choc chip
19. What book are you reading at the moment?
'the Freud Report'. its a work thing.
20. What colour is your bedroom carpet?
blueish
21. How many times did you fail your driver's test?
never!
22. Before this one, from whom did you get your last e-mail?
giles.
23. What do you do when you are bored?
oh, Sleep.
24. Bedtime?
the time when you cant stay awake any longer.
25. Who will respond to this e-mail the quickest?
hello peeps!
26. Who is the person you sent this to that is least likely
erm....
27. Who is the person that you are most curious to see their answers?
all of you.
28. Favourite TV show?
"v", Battlestar Galactica.
29. Ford or Chevy?
mini Cooper, italian job stylee.
30. What are you listening to right now?
the hum and grind of machines....
31. How many pets do you have?
none
32. Which came first the chicken or the egg?
The man, 30 seconds of pleasure...
33. What would you like to accomplish before you die?
be a good person
34. How many people are you sending this e-mail to?
Oh, hello!
35. What time is it now?
20.14
Again, I wrote at home last night.Again, I left the mp3 player / portable hard drive behind at work so I couldn't transport the info. sO I have to start from scratch....
Work. Went home, via Sainsbury. Bought cheap mince, but this time, its got a far lesser fat content at only 24.3% rather than 33% for tescos value mince (the Tescos stuff is 2P a kilo more expensive, anyway). Made Spag bol, a meal which every person on average spends roughly eight years of their life eating (courtesy of the register its some 2,900 servings of spag bol in each and everyones lifetime . And the average house subsists on a standard diet of four meals. Wow, thats about three more than I can cook. (Its not a lie - pizza doesn't count, and chicken and potato wedges is easy because you stick both in at the same time). I know I promised not ot buy anymore, but I did. Whoopsie. then I listened to the Inspiral Carpets "live at The Gmex" CD i made up (with 12 tracks, compiled up from the live portion of the "Spool As"DVD and the bonus tracks from the biggets Mountain / island Head CD ; 45 minutes of vintage live inspirals . I know there's only 11 tracks, but i split the intro from the opening song into a seperate song 'Real Thing')
I listened, I pottered, I went to bed. I woke up. I went to work. Work was ok. A bit dull though - the systems kept crashing, and there's skulldiggery afoot too. (Sounds cryptic, its not.)
I'm off to see rebecca later. I do wonder how she is.
By the way, cheapest place for the Bond movie CASINO ROYALE is Sainsburys. £8.99, in store. (whilst stocks last). (I hear a rumour that Asda are doing it for £8 but... I ain't travelling an hour on the bus on the offchance). Either way, Compared to Tesco's £14.69, Woolies £13.77, and HMV's £14.99 - thats insanely cheap. Even cheaper than buying it secondhand too as Cex is bunging it out at £12, for example. So there, thats my tip for the day - Albeit in the 2 disc edition which I fully expect to be upgraded to a supermega multiple commentaries and additional making of stuff rather than promotional fluff. Still, in lieu of a better edition to purchase....
Anyway, linkees...
i) Band of Brothers 10 hour miniseries 6 disc DVD box set, £18. Linkee
ii) Cheap Subtitling makes movies rubbish, and costs hollywood revenues. So How can they worry about losing out on revenue when they cut corners like that ? Lost in translation, indeed. (The worst example of subtitling I've ever seen in the otherwise quite good Crimson Rivers II, where an entire sequence has entirely different dialogue in the English dub, but the subtitling is on the french script: A joke about a nun turns into one about "Why is 6 afraid of 7?')
iii) New Bon jovi album news linkee
iv)Rush tour in october Glasgow and NEwcastle so far
v) Metallicas new arabic Direction
VI) Call for Prison discharge grants to be raised... link (You wouldn't believe how sensible this is). And in other terms, heres for something unsensible... Mini jails for mini offences?
vii)The Unicron defense. What is it? What does it mean?How the hell do you expect me know? Unicorn defense? The uninvited guest, the banquo at your banquet, the invisible meddler....
viii) Does god hate you that much, you have to hide yourself from every man who sees you? Linkee . I wonder what gay muslims do... how do they control themselves, i wonder?
ix) The sexless worm...
x)CD-Wow ruled in contempt of court for helping scustomers make savings... link
xi)And whatever you do, don't type 'blogspot'into google images... This it the top result. . Zoiks.
xii)Prison tattoos. know your Acab from your Affa? I do. Linkees to be found and they are here and here and here and here and here . Russian ones are particularly complex, apparently. Especially involving Lenin or Stalin.
Off to see Inland empire tomorrow... Empire review here and indepth analysis here . I'm already feeling a little... confused by it all.
Back tomorrow.
Work. Went home, via Sainsbury. Bought cheap mince, but this time, its got a far lesser fat content at only 24.3% rather than 33% for tescos value mince (the Tescos stuff is 2P a kilo more expensive, anyway). Made Spag bol, a meal which every person on average spends roughly eight years of their life eating (courtesy of the register its some 2,900 servings of spag bol in each and everyones lifetime . And the average house subsists on a standard diet of four meals. Wow, thats about three more than I can cook. (Its not a lie - pizza doesn't count, and chicken and potato wedges is easy because you stick both in at the same time). I know I promised not ot buy anymore, but I did. Whoopsie. then I listened to the Inspiral Carpets "live at The Gmex" CD i made up (with 12 tracks, compiled up from the live portion of the "Spool As"DVD and the bonus tracks from the biggets Mountain / island Head CD ; 45 minutes of vintage live inspirals . I know there's only 11 tracks, but i split the intro from the opening song into a seperate song 'Real Thing')
I listened, I pottered, I went to bed. I woke up. I went to work. Work was ok. A bit dull though - the systems kept crashing, and there's skulldiggery afoot too. (Sounds cryptic, its not.)
I'm off to see rebecca later. I do wonder how she is.
By the way, cheapest place for the Bond movie CASINO ROYALE is Sainsburys. £8.99, in store. (whilst stocks last). (I hear a rumour that Asda are doing it for £8 but... I ain't travelling an hour on the bus on the offchance). Either way, Compared to Tesco's £14.69, Woolies £13.77, and HMV's £14.99 - thats insanely cheap. Even cheaper than buying it secondhand too as Cex is bunging it out at £12, for example. So there, thats my tip for the day - Albeit in the 2 disc edition which I fully expect to be upgraded to a supermega multiple commentaries and additional making of stuff rather than promotional fluff. Still, in lieu of a better edition to purchase....
Anyway, linkees...
i) Band of Brothers 10 hour miniseries 6 disc DVD box set, £18. Linkee
ii) Cheap Subtitling makes movies rubbish, and costs hollywood revenues. So How can they worry about losing out on revenue when they cut corners like that ? Lost in translation, indeed. (The worst example of subtitling I've ever seen in the otherwise quite good Crimson Rivers II, where an entire sequence has entirely different dialogue in the English dub, but the subtitling is on the french script: A joke about a nun turns into one about "Why is 6 afraid of 7?')
iii) New Bon jovi album news linkee
iv)Rush tour in october Glasgow and NEwcastle so far
v) Metallicas new arabic Direction
VI) Call for Prison discharge grants to be raised... link (You wouldn't believe how sensible this is). And in other terms, heres for something unsensible... Mini jails for mini offences?
vii)The Unicron defense. What is it? What does it mean?How the hell do you expect me know? Unicorn defense? The uninvited guest, the banquo at your banquet, the invisible meddler....
viii) Does god hate you that much, you have to hide yourself from every man who sees you? Linkee . I wonder what gay muslims do... how do they control themselves, i wonder?
ix) The sexless worm...
x)CD-Wow ruled in contempt of court for helping scustomers make savings... link
xi)And whatever you do, don't type 'blogspot'into google images... This it the top result. . Zoiks.
xii)Prison tattoos. know your Acab from your Affa? I do. Linkees to be found and they are here and here and here and here and here . Russian ones are particularly complex, apparently. Especially involving Lenin or Stalin.
Off to see Inland empire tomorrow... Empire review here and indepth analysis here . I'm already feeling a little... confused by it all.
Back tomorrow.
Monday, March 19, 2007
I did write a blog post at home, and then...well, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to read it. Thing is, I stuck it on the portable Mp3 player / flash memory stick and then it said..."This folder is corrupted, unreadable or inaccessible". So its already written, but you aren't going to get to read it.
It does seem a bit pointless writing it again though, so; in precis -
Friday - go home and cook
Saturday - go to library, blog, do a bit of window shopping, come home, go out to the Academy. Soem bloke describes me to his mate 'That guy looks like a f**king pedo', which I shrug off. People get drunbk, and half an hour later the group of people I'm with Get chucked out of the academy, and find a 18 year old girl trying to kiss me (I wouldn't let her) whilst calling me another blokes name. How bizarre. Walk home for an hour and a half, sleep. it soundes much more exciting and interesting than it really is, because as nights go, it was a bit of a disaster.
Sunday - Sleep, and watch bad disaster movies from the seventies.
Monday - work. (see most days at work, they're fairly interchangable)
45% Working class, white trash, that survey said. Well, i work in a white collar job, don't work in manual labour, don't own power tools, don't live in a trailer park. I don't drink moonshine, wear a white vest, baseball cap, tracksuit bottoms, or like R n' B. (By the way, R n' B to me is John lee Hooker, not this soft swing shite; but I do like metallica.. Dammit). On the other hand, it described me as 'punk rock',whihc i sort of like. Some might say I do fit that descirption - long periods of unemployment, social housing, below average income, child out of wedlock etc. But there again, i'm some guardian reading ANTI-WAR liberal. And I don't even have a gun....me thinks the survey isn't 100% accurate all the time.
Not much else to report. Aside from watching bad 70s disaster movies whilst doing housework isn't a very good way of spending a sunday.....
More tomorrow.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
An itinery, as always. (And as brought in from home on the flash memory stick, and then uploaded a couple of days later)
Friday night? I went home, and cooked, and slept and tootled around the flat a little bit. I was in bed early, knowing I had a late night on Saturday.
Saturday? Mostly a dull, unexciting day. The usual minutae of day to day existence. I knew I was going out - It was one of Nics friends birthday. So I went óut to the Library, returned some books. Completely forgot the overdue CDs I had to return, but I returned some of the books. I went to look in the army and Navy store, but then thought to myself, why should I pay £3 for an ex-army shirt today when two weeks ago in Camden I saw them for £1? I knew I should have bought them then. Dammit. And then I went the market, to check the prices there, and they'd closed because I got there too late; same with the cheap freezer food shop. That was shut too. bah. I did spend some money in MVE on cheapo CDs though - magazine freebie CDs for 50p, a couple of compilation albums, Blur's "Think Tank" For £1, that sort of thing. Nothing too majorly exciting. Nothing really very exciting. Traded in a couple of DVDs I had bought, for more than I had paid for them. I came home, and had a bath, and cooked again, started crunching down a DVD, and then went out.
Saturday Night was a birthday. I met Nic and a few of her friends, And for the second time in eight days, the party I was with were asked to remove themselves from the premises. Got to the academy quite early - for doors opening, and there was Nic, her mate Kat (whose birthday it was), and a couple of her other mates. Kat - it being her 18th birthday that very day - had had a bit to drink. We get in and within twenty minutes, its all over. She can't stand up and is snogging some guys face off. She's on the verge of falling over, so when the security say to us that they're going to have ask us to leave, we've no choice. So we go. Back to Nics, where there's a couple of hours of shouting from Kat and her brother rowing. In the plus points, whilst at the academy I did manage to stop at least one person getting lamped by taking people to one side and having a quiet, sensible word; and that wasn't the guy who saw me coming out of the toilets who looked at me and said to his mate 'That guy looks like a f**king pedophile'. (I was more than slightly annoyed by that, because he deserves a telling off he didn't get. But what good would it do? Actually, the best idea would have been to challenge him to a fight outside, let him go first, and then laugh my head off because he just cost himself a fiver to get back in. Fnarr. Of course, it always works better in your head; reality may differ)
I left nics at 2:38 in the morning. There's no way I was throwing money away on a taxi. I walked. I walked a long way. A different route to the way I walked last time, and I got home at 4:08am. And went to bed. Sunday i slept, and awoke at 1PM. needed it, I really did. Cooked and pottered about a bit.
I really do like cooking at the moment, but I don't like the current Pasta Twists / Mince meat Carbonara thing. For ages, Giles would tell me off about eating that 'processed shit' (ie Chicken Pieces from iceland and Potato Wedges); So I decided to try something different. Yep, mince. Makes a nice change. And after a couple of months.... I look in the mirror and see this fat bugger looking back at me. So much for eating healthy stuff - It made me put weight on a bit. Dammit. I was better off with that processed shit.
Thing is, unless you hunt, kill and cook it yourself straight from the wild, pretty much all food is processed. All of it. To deceive yourself otherwise is foolish. So You may as well just accept it, and carry on eating what makes you happy. And its amazing...this so called proper cooking and healthy stuff hasn't turned out to be any better for me, its just made me unhealthy and it means need to lose weight. Not much though, but enough.
I stuck a film on in the background and carried on tootling around. Airport - the original disaster movie, from 1970, recepient of eleven Oscar nominations. Its so badly dated and things have changed so much since then. People get on and off planes with no security, no x-ray checks, and even shifty businessmen with ticking suitcases just walk straight onboard - people smoke everywhere, on the planes, in the cockpit, everywhere, even out on the airfield - and there's even references to obscure racist jokes (There's a bit where they talk to the airport called 'Lincoln'; the response is 'thats the second time you've freed the slaves', which is horribly off colour even now), technobabble, and some hilarious cliches (which are all the better if you've watched Airplane). Its utterly dreadful, and yet...oddly compelling. And its like watching a bad old episode of Columbo, only...ern... worse.
A couple of episodes of Star Trek later, I'm trying to get to sleep. I can't. Does anyone know how to switch my brain off?
Friday night? I went home, and cooked, and slept and tootled around the flat a little bit. I was in bed early, knowing I had a late night on Saturday.
Saturday? Mostly a dull, unexciting day. The usual minutae of day to day existence. I knew I was going out - It was one of Nics friends birthday. So I went óut to the Library, returned some books. Completely forgot the overdue CDs I had to return, but I returned some of the books. I went to look in the army and Navy store, but then thought to myself, why should I pay £3 for an ex-army shirt today when two weeks ago in Camden I saw them for £1? I knew I should have bought them then. Dammit. And then I went the market, to check the prices there, and they'd closed because I got there too late; same with the cheap freezer food shop. That was shut too. bah. I did spend some money in MVE on cheapo CDs though - magazine freebie CDs for 50p, a couple of compilation albums, Blur's "Think Tank" For £1, that sort of thing. Nothing too majorly exciting. Nothing really very exciting. Traded in a couple of DVDs I had bought, for more than I had paid for them. I came home, and had a bath, and cooked again, started crunching down a DVD, and then went out.
Saturday Night was a birthday. I met Nic and a few of her friends, And for the second time in eight days, the party I was with were asked to remove themselves from the premises. Got to the academy quite early - for doors opening, and there was Nic, her mate Kat (whose birthday it was), and a couple of her other mates. Kat - it being her 18th birthday that very day - had had a bit to drink. We get in and within twenty minutes, its all over. She can't stand up and is snogging some guys face off. She's on the verge of falling over, so when the security say to us that they're going to have ask us to leave, we've no choice. So we go. Back to Nics, where there's a couple of hours of shouting from Kat and her brother rowing. In the plus points, whilst at the academy I did manage to stop at least one person getting lamped by taking people to one side and having a quiet, sensible word; and that wasn't the guy who saw me coming out of the toilets who looked at me and said to his mate 'That guy looks like a f**king pedophile'. (I was more than slightly annoyed by that, because he deserves a telling off he didn't get. But what good would it do? Actually, the best idea would have been to challenge him to a fight outside, let him go first, and then laugh my head off because he just cost himself a fiver to get back in. Fnarr. Of course, it always works better in your head; reality may differ)
I left nics at 2:38 in the morning. There's no way I was throwing money away on a taxi. I walked. I walked a long way. A different route to the way I walked last time, and I got home at 4:08am. And went to bed. Sunday i slept, and awoke at 1PM. needed it, I really did. Cooked and pottered about a bit.
I really do like cooking at the moment, but I don't like the current Pasta Twists / Mince meat Carbonara thing. For ages, Giles would tell me off about eating that 'processed shit' (ie Chicken Pieces from iceland and Potato Wedges); So I decided to try something different. Yep, mince. Makes a nice change. And after a couple of months.... I look in the mirror and see this fat bugger looking back at me. So much for eating healthy stuff - It made me put weight on a bit. Dammit. I was better off with that processed shit.
Thing is, unless you hunt, kill and cook it yourself straight from the wild, pretty much all food is processed. All of it. To deceive yourself otherwise is foolish. So You may as well just accept it, and carry on eating what makes you happy. And its amazing...this so called proper cooking and healthy stuff hasn't turned out to be any better for me, its just made me unhealthy and it means need to lose weight. Not much though, but enough.
I stuck a film on in the background and carried on tootling around. Airport - the original disaster movie, from 1970, recepient of eleven Oscar nominations. Its so badly dated and things have changed so much since then. People get on and off planes with no security, no x-ray checks, and even shifty businessmen with ticking suitcases just walk straight onboard - people smoke everywhere, on the planes, in the cockpit, everywhere, even out on the airfield - and there's even references to obscure racist jokes (There's a bit where they talk to the airport called 'Lincoln'; the response is 'thats the second time you've freed the slaves', which is horribly off colour even now), technobabble, and some hilarious cliches (which are all the better if you've watched Airplane). Its utterly dreadful, and yet...oddly compelling. And its like watching a bad old episode of Columbo, only...ern... worse.
A couple of episodes of Star Trek later, I'm trying to get to sleep. I can't. Does anyone know how to switch my brain off?
Saturday, March 17, 2007
utterly tasteless, i know.But mark loves it. I spoke to him last night, breifly, for afew minutes. He was ok, just seemed a bit bored. I dunno. I'm sure I forgot to mention something important to him...
Bah.
i came home last night, cooked, listened to the radio, eddie izzards "definite article" tape, slept, got woken up at early o clock as my body clock is synchronised to work hours, went back to sleep, woke up, went back to sleep, finally gotup, cooked abacon sandwich, checked the post, went to the library... here I am.
back monday.Here's the test results of what he did too.
The Everything Test
There are many different types of tests on the internet today. Personality tests, purity tests, stereotype tests, political tests. But now, there is one test to rule them all.Traditionally, online tests would ask certain questions about your musical tastes or clothing for a stereotype, your experiences for a purity test, or deep questions for a personality test.We're turning that upside down - all the questions affect all the results, and we've got some innovative results too! Enjoy :-)
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| Politics Your political views would best be described as Socialist, whom you agree with around 100% of the time. | Socioeconomic Your attitude toward life best associates you with Working Class. You make more than 0% of those who have taken this test, and 49% less than the U.S. average. |
| If your life was a movie, it would be rated R. By the way, your hottness rank is 57%, hotter than 82% of other test takers. |
TAKE THE TEST
brought to you by thatsurveysite
I don't agree with the answers, by the way. 45% white trash, working class? bah.
And check this for spelling linky ...
Thursday was an odd chat with the psychiatrist. I was explaining my world view to him, and I think I've given him a interesting hinge inside that prison that is my mind.
He describes the world I live in, the way I see the world, as 'difficult'. Aye, that's true. There's a dichotomy between the way I see the world, and the way the world is. A dichotomy between the irrationality and rationality of behaviour.
I suspect my major problem is trying to squeeze the world into my worldview. You see, I always try to analyse the way the world is - what motivates people, why they act a certain way, that sort of thing.
I have as one of my central precepts is that the vast majority of people are, in the majority of their behaviour, motivated by greed and self interest; or to put it a better way, self-preservation. Its not illogical to posit that the way people act is normally in response to certain perceived triggers. They desire something, and then act accordingly in order to fulfil that desire. Thus, all behaviour is logical and motivated by triggers and desires. I find it crazy to imagine that sometimes people can actually just be nice for a change, and I always wonder what people want from me. How they are intending to use me. its paranoia, i know it is, but its related to how my ex and I split and what she took from me - I feel used by that, and its clouded the way I see the world. (Yes, its boring but... ) Either way, i fidn it difficult to trust, because I do wonder what is their self-interest here? What are they interested in me for? What do they want from me? Mmm?
But people's behaviour isn't always logical. Sometimes, it is chaos; random, disordered, beyond rationality. And that's the problem - there are things people do that make NO rational sense at all. And it drives me crazy, their illogical and irrational behaviour.
What I try to do is fit the world into my world view - because without it, It doesn't make sense. Call me crazy, but to me, I find it impossible to believe that this world is just a random bunch of stuff that just happens. Because it's not; everything happens for a reason.
Now, some people try to explain this in a manner of things; I mean, everyday God kills dogs and animals, because he has to. That sort of logic - it's gods will, its fate, its just the way it is. Nope, its' not. Its illogical, and senseless. That makes NO sense to me. So sometimes I feel like the sole, rational, logical voice in this world that is run by irrational, illogical, spiteful, foolish idiots. Like buses that never turn up on time, for no real logical reason. Things like that, they drive me crazy. They make no sense - like Saturday night when the man who saw me coming out of the toilet and then said to his mate a derogatory comment regarding what he believed to be my sexual predilictions.
And trying to fit this world into my world view, just doesn't work. Because this world makes no sense. And I find that awkward, because there's either turning your world over to disorder and chaos and anarchy - or sense and rationality and reason and logic. Blaming it all on some magic, invisible guy who made us all in seven days because he was a bit...erm.... lonely, and threatens us with eternal burning if we don't tell him how great he is once every seven days is all a bit wierd to me.
Mmmmm. No wonder my psychiatrist describes the world I live in as difficult and fractured.I sure
He describes the world I live in, the way I see the world, as 'difficult'. Aye, that's true. There's a dichotomy between the way I see the world, and the way the world is. A dichotomy between the irrationality and rationality of behaviour.
I suspect my major problem is trying to squeeze the world into my worldview. You see, I always try to analyse the way the world is - what motivates people, why they act a certain way, that sort of thing.
I have as one of my central precepts is that the vast majority of people are, in the majority of their behaviour, motivated by greed and self interest; or to put it a better way, self-preservation. Its not illogical to posit that the way people act is normally in response to certain perceived triggers. They desire something, and then act accordingly in order to fulfil that desire. Thus, all behaviour is logical and motivated by triggers and desires. I find it crazy to imagine that sometimes people can actually just be nice for a change, and I always wonder what people want from me. How they are intending to use me. its paranoia, i know it is, but its related to how my ex and I split and what she took from me - I feel used by that, and its clouded the way I see the world. (Yes, its boring but... ) Either way, i fidn it difficult to trust, because I do wonder what is their self-interest here? What are they interested in me for? What do they want from me? Mmm?
But people's behaviour isn't always logical. Sometimes, it is chaos; random, disordered, beyond rationality. And that's the problem - there are things people do that make NO rational sense at all. And it drives me crazy, their illogical and irrational behaviour.
What I try to do is fit the world into my world view - because without it, It doesn't make sense. Call me crazy, but to me, I find it impossible to believe that this world is just a random bunch of stuff that just happens. Because it's not; everything happens for a reason.
Now, some people try to explain this in a manner of things; I mean, everyday God kills dogs and animals, because he has to. That sort of logic - it's gods will, its fate, its just the way it is. Nope, its' not. Its illogical, and senseless. That makes NO sense to me. So sometimes I feel like the sole, rational, logical voice in this world that is run by irrational, illogical, spiteful, foolish idiots. Like buses that never turn up on time, for no real logical reason. Things like that, they drive me crazy. They make no sense - like Saturday night when the man who saw me coming out of the toilet and then said to his mate a derogatory comment regarding what he believed to be my sexual predilictions.
And trying to fit this world into my world view, just doesn't work. Because this world makes no sense. And I find that awkward, because there's either turning your world over to disorder and chaos and anarchy - or sense and rationality and reason and logic. Blaming it all on some magic, invisible guy who made us all in seven days because he was a bit...erm.... lonely, and threatens us with eternal burning if we don't tell him how great he is once every seven days is all a bit wierd to me.
Mmmmm. No wonder my psychiatrist describes the world I live in as difficult and fractured.I sure
Friday, March 16, 2007
Had a half day yesterday. Went to the doctors for an appointment – quite worthwhile I found it to be. About halfway through, I realised it was best to try and psychoanalyse the shrink, which amused me. It certainly turned out to be an interesting conversation. I was supposed to get out of there by four, and quarter to five I was still being talked at. Which would have seriously scuppered any plans I may have had to do anything else for the day. I would have ended up running around like a headless Domo-kun.
My original plan (because I had forgotten the appointment, it being 3 months since the last one), was to see Rebecca after work, but then I realised that It would have been a bloody long round trip to see her in rush hour from a doctors surgery about 8 miles and three buses away. I hope I get to see her another day, but the fractious relationship me and her mother have at the moment is a sticking point; its caused by my stubbornness amongst other things.
I went to the library, came home, cooked and that was about it. I was in bed for eleven. I woke up and went to work. I found some jobs on the internal network for working for the ‘Counter Narcotics Agency’ based in Kabul, Afghanistan. A snip at only £35k, free kidnapping thrown in as well I presume? Nothing like working in a war zone, is there? (It might work, but I am unsure, so look here and here
Anyway, I went to the library and then came home, cooked, had an early night (in bed for eleven)
I worked over, again, like I always do. Not very exciting, I know. Then i wrote a blog post that 'expired' and got lost.
Here’s some links
i)Domokun invade poland...against the evil cats... very tastless though (Ein Volk, Ein Riech, Ein Zork), ahem.
ii) Pink Fraud
iii) Escape from new York, again?
iv) Stop buyign tehcnoloigcal crap, says man with forked tongue
v) Interestign reading in paragraph 3 , by the way.
vi)Evil people set up blogs infected with malaware , designed by humans, written by mahcines, read by idiots ; any human would untderstand how irrelevant they are beign simply loaded with search terms, but in reality, google aint gonna know that is it ?
More tomorrow. Back then.oooh, pretty...
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Another threesome...
Me and my mate barry copped off with this right pair of minxes on the beach last year, it was like something from an issue of....
Fnarr fnarr fnarr. I'm so juvenile sometimes. here's the quiz....
1.Where is your cell phone? In my pocket
2. Boyfriend/girlfriend? not right now
3. Hair? not much left
4. Your mother? not here anymore
5. Your father? at home grumbling
6. Your favorite item(s)? coulnt tell you
7. Your dream last night? did not dream
8. Your favorite drink? anything right now
9. Your dream guy/girl? you can guess
10. The room you are in? the main office
11. Your fear? i have many
12. What do you want to be in 10 years? happy for once
13. Who did you hang out with last night? home and cinema
14. What are you not? not your bitch
15. Are you in love? wish i was
16. One of your wish list items? endless £20 notes
17. What time is it? Stop! Hammer time!
18. The last thing you did? Think something witty
19. What are you wearing? 5 days stubble
20. Your favorite book? fight club. (1996)
21. The last thing you ate? milk chocolate buttons
22. Your life? finishes too quick
23. Your mood? irritable, tired, grumpy.
24. Your friends? i have some
25. What are you thinking about right now? answering stoopid question
26. Your car? matchbox lotus esprit.
27. What are you doing at this moment? read this quiz
28. Your summer? my own summer.
29. Your relationship status? what relationship? none.
30. What is on your TV screen? whats a tv?
31. When is the last time you laughed? this morning
32. Last time you cried? early monday evening
33. School? left, not returning/
Fnarr fnarr fnarr. I'm so juvenile sometimes. here's the quiz....
1.Where is your cell phone? In my pocket
2. Boyfriend/girlfriend? not right now
3. Hair? not much left
4. Your mother? not here anymore
5. Your father? at home grumbling
6. Your favorite item(s)? coulnt tell you
7. Your dream last night? did not dream
8. Your favorite drink? anything right now
9. Your dream guy/girl? you can guess
10. The room you are in? the main office
11. Your fear? i have many
12. What do you want to be in 10 years? happy for once
13. Who did you hang out with last night? home and cinema
14. What are you not? not your bitch
15. Are you in love? wish i was
16. One of your wish list items? endless £20 notes
17. What time is it? Stop! Hammer time!
18. The last thing you did? Think something witty
19. What are you wearing? 5 days stubble
20. Your favorite book? fight club. (1996)
21. The last thing you ate? milk chocolate buttons
22. Your life? finishes too quick
23. Your mood? irritable, tired, grumpy.
24. Your friends? i have some
25. What are you thinking about right now? answering stoopid question
26. Your car? matchbox lotus esprit.
27. What are you doing at this moment? read this quiz
28. Your summer? my own summer.
29. Your relationship status? what relationship? none.
30. What is on your TV screen? whats a tv?
31. When is the last time you laughed? this morning
32. Last time you cried? early monday evening
33. School? left, not returning/
I really hate the way I am to people sometimes, and I don't even try to be nasty. i just am. Now, someone once said about me that "If he doesn't want to do it, he won't do it", and no amount of arm twisting or manipulation will work. If I feel like someone is trying to play games withj me, or manipulate me in the slightest, or if I perceive someone is trying to do so, i will not cave in. The defense walls will come up automatically, and I won't do anythign they want me to do. Because I refused to be manipulated or made to do somethign in the slightest.
When I was with my wife, she manipulated me into doing things I felt uncomfortale with, manipulated the situation, and caused a large, large, amount of problems. I've since then vowed never to let anyone do that again. And it causes problems, because the second anyone tries to play me, or play games with me like that, i drop them and go cold. It doesn't matter except the principle. I sacrificed my principles before, and look where It got me. So If you hate me, if you think I'm being nasty; i'm not. Not deliberately. Not to be nasty to you or anyone; Its me holding my ground. No matter how it feels. And I try to keep my principles, because without that...what have I got?
I really hate conflict. But I won't give up my principles.
When I was with my wife, she manipulated me into doing things I felt uncomfortale with, manipulated the situation, and caused a large, large, amount of problems. I've since then vowed never to let anyone do that again. And it causes problems, because the second anyone tries to play me, or play games with me like that, i drop them and go cold. It doesn't matter except the principle. I sacrificed my principles before, and look where It got me. So If you hate me, if you think I'm being nasty; i'm not. Not deliberately. Not to be nasty to you or anyone; Its me holding my ground. No matter how it feels. And I try to keep my principles, because without that...what have I got?
I really hate conflict. But I won't give up my principles.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
I've been asked to get involved with a threesome...fnarr. Here it is.
3 Things that scare me:
- The future
- The freud report
- Anything with more legs than corners
3 people who make me laugh:
- David Cross
- Bill Hicks
- ben Affleck and Kevin Smith
3 Things I love:
- My daughter
- Music
- Movies
3 Things I hate:
- Forced unskippable trailers and warnings on DVDs (try watching 'Croupier' - there's 9 minutes of 'em)
- The way Tony Blair smiles like a tiger about to pounce, like someone who would run you over in a 4 by four, give you a plaster, and then send you an invoice for it.
- Things with more legs than corners. You don't need legs in the middle of your body..
3 Things I don’t understand:
- The obsession with house prices
- The way the media demonises whoever it is they hate this week: Single parents, doleys, benefit claimants, immigrants etc.
- Buses. Why are they so crap?
3 Things on my desk:
- CRT PC Monitor. (Screw LCD flatscreen;the update/refresh rate is terrible by comparison, the picture quality far inferior for gaming due to lag, and I find the screens are fuzzier. That and the dead pixel rate are a big turn off for me)
- A Box of Cds waiting to be filed away that I've played and not got round to sorting;
- A lot of stationery. Pens, pencils, gel pens, biros.
3 Things I’m doing right now:
- Working, at work, looking at the CRT monitor
- listening to the hubble and bubble of the workplace, and various assorted shouting
- Wondering If I should have a shave tonight
3 Things I want to do before I die:
- Stand up Comedy. And not die on stage.
- An interesting evening with multiple, naked women who want my body (not likely, I know)
- Make Scarlett Johannsen mine
3 Things I can do:
- My job
- Write
- Think and over analyse too much
3 Things I can’t do:
- Swim
- Drive A Car
- Build a House
3 Things you should listen to:
- earthtone 9
- Pop Will Eat Itself
- Rush.
3 Things you should never listen to:
- Merzbow
- Cosmic Coincidence Control Center
- Jap Noise, basically.
3 Things I’d like to learn:
- The way the world works
- Why its ok to kill dark skinned people in other countries for democracy, whilst demolishing democracy at home
- Nipples for men. Why? (I know why, but an all knowing god wouldn;t invent such things, would he?)
3 Favourite foods:
- Pasta Carbonara
- Pizza
- Chicken
3 Beverages I drink regularly:
- Coke
- Energy Drinks such as Blue Rat
- Water
3 Shows I watched as a kid:
- battlestar galactica
- Airwolf
- Star Trek
Toodlepip. Go, on....tag yourselves.....
In lieu of a proper blog post for Wednesday, here it is; fast dated and just a few quick links. Lots of good stuff here, FYI.
i) A list of political blogs. Lots of good, tasty stuff in here. LINK
ii)One of which is Manic Net preacher
iii) And also recommended from the same list is Mo Truth
iv) How to claim cheaper rail fares, legitimately. LINK
v)banksy street mural - And the house it is on is for sale, except that every new owner wants to destroy it ; Similarly, London street cleaners wash off artwork worth £100k?
vi)A photo essay on the trail of Blood Diamonds . Good photos.
vii)And one on the shipbreaking industry in End of the Line
viii) Guido Fawkes Right wing blogger and political incisor from The conservatives extraordinaire . Lots of good coverage here.
ix) Windows for Warships ; microsoft and killing people.
x)Wanna know how those spam emails advertising junk stocks work? here's an example
xi)Also see it on Wikipedia here
xii) And a different spin on triggering runs on such things
xiii) COnservative Political candidates blog Vicky Ford here. Normally parachuted in into major labour constituencies with huge (10,000+) majorities from out of town, with little understanding of local issues and even less hope of winning.
xiv) Al gore gets TV
xv) Microsoft benefits from Piracy, shocker
xvi)Where in the world but Britain ? (Caution contains pretty landscapes)
xvii) The New £20 note
xix) How to make the perfect live album (Caution: this needs a lot of work, article is quite unsatisfying)
xx) NHS Doc blog
xxi) And the new craze sweeping prisons... DF118's
xxii)The BBC on this new fangled jargon here
xxiii) The most unread books in the country. Beckham, and the Goblet of Tedium....
xxiv) Old Wembley destruction (Rather rose tinted, mind you)
xxv) And a fascinating look at the architecture of old now gone and forgotten
Back maybe, later.
i) A list of political blogs. Lots of good, tasty stuff in here. LINK
ii)One of which is Manic Net preacher
iii) And also recommended from the same list is Mo Truth
iv) How to claim cheaper rail fares, legitimately. LINK
v)banksy street mural - And the house it is on is for sale, except that every new owner wants to destroy it ; Similarly, London street cleaners wash off artwork worth £100k?
vi)A photo essay on the trail of Blood Diamonds . Good photos.
vii)And one on the shipbreaking industry in End of the Line
viii) Guido Fawkes Right wing blogger and political incisor from The conservatives extraordinaire . Lots of good coverage here.
ix) Windows for Warships ; microsoft and killing people.
x)Wanna know how those spam emails advertising junk stocks work? here's an example
xi)Also see it on Wikipedia here
xii) And a different spin on triggering runs on such things
xiii) COnservative Political candidates blog Vicky Ford here. Normally parachuted in into major labour constituencies with huge (10,000+) majorities from out of town, with little understanding of local issues and even less hope of winning.
xiv) Al gore gets TV
xv) Microsoft benefits from Piracy, shocker
xvi)Where in the world but Britain ? (Caution contains pretty landscapes)
xvii) The New £20 note
xix) How to make the perfect live album (Caution: this needs a lot of work, article is quite unsatisfying)
xx) NHS Doc blog
xxi) And the new craze sweeping prisons... DF118's
xxii)The BBC on this new fangled jargon here
xxiii) The most unread books in the country. Beckham, and the Goblet of Tedium....
xxiv) Old Wembley destruction (Rather rose tinted, mind you)
xxv) And a fascinating look at the architecture of old now gone and forgotten
Back maybe, later.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
THIS IS YOUR LIFE....
(I've been tagged by Lithaborn. I will do that tag. But I started this one, from Metalhammer's April 2000 issue and the 'this is your life' feature. Spread it around, please, if you like)
When and Where you born?
July 1973, in hospital in Birmingham.
Where did you grow up?
Birmingham, at home. (Wheres that?) Where I live. (Nice place?) yeah, Sure I guess. (Tell me about your mother…).
What is your earliest memory?
Falling over in a pub carpark, onto the gravel and glass. I was about two– and I remember the bright sunlight, the looking down and seeing blood in my hand. Then I went to hospitable and it was BIG. The rooms were so much bigger than me. So, my first memory is pain. Very emo of me, I know. Very dramatic too. But true.
What was your upbringing like?
Cosy, suburban, typical Middle class. Job, car, 2 kids, dog, the holiday abroad everysummer, the extra marital affair from working late at the office being kept under wraps, the late night phone calls....oh.Keeping up with the Joneses and fitting in, that what it seems it was about.
Do you have happy memories of that time?
The memories I do have aren't unhappy. nor happy. Just flat. i never would appreciate the joy of not going to work and crawling out of bed at shit o'clock and battling commuter traffic and struggling with paying the phone bill until I had to do it. My main source of neuroses from that time was wondering what would happen in the next issue of Comando comic, (hereafter entitled 'Die Fritz!') or playing with Star wars toys. From the age of 11 onwards though, it was mainly concerned with if my mum would discover the porn mags under my bed.
Did you ever have nightmares?
Very rarely. I did have a recurring nightmare about driving around old hollowed out derelict abbeys next to a cliff with a reddening sky of fire above me, but I haven’t had it in a long logn time. It probably doesn’t mean anything anyway, I don't really remember the majority of my dreams, though. Last one I had I was singing in the pet Shop boys doing a musical which was like 100 of their songs megamixed. And I kept on forgetting the words.And Chris Lowe gave me such a filthy look like you wouldn’t believe….
Do you have any brothers or sisters?One. Him. (Not captain chaos). I’m the better looking one of the two, obviously.
How would you Describe your relationship with them?
Good, but occasionally strained. (EDIT: he describes me as being a twat sometimes, but we all are. Anyone who doesn't admit they are sometimes a bit of an idiot and do foolish things is obviously perfect, and hence, in mormon terms; "translated". Ha! We're only human)
What did your parents do?
My mum worked in a solicitors, typing and doing letters. And not being very well. My father worked as a variety of things, mainly an office manager / ourchasing estimator / manager for industrial companies. The sort of thing where you leave school and get a job in a factory and work your way up into the office and then plateau, because your social skills of dragging yourself up from the streets wear you down to the point where all the office politics crap is dealt with by a clash of personalities rather than how well you do the job. I suppose that makes my dad the arch-typical working class boy who did good, dreamed of a sporting career, then had to settle down and get a proper career when the boys came along; even if that was at the age of 31, when you’re old enough to have plateaued in sport anyway and on the slope down. He coulda been someone, well, so could anyone.
Your family; Are you close to them now?
Only my brother. Similar cultural background, same friends, same movies and books and gigs. My father and I are quite distant – it must be a horrible feeling when your children don’t need you anymore, when you need them more than they need you, when they are old enough to leave home and pay their own bills. He’s someone I don’t really have anyone in common with.
What Sort of Values did they instil in you?
Go to school. Succeed. Go really well at sport. Stand around in a field freezing your balls off because you can’t wear glasses and be a champion sportsman at the same time. Don’t get caught nobbing women who aren’t your wife. The apex of human achievement is a dark green BMW, or a Black Rover Vanden Plas 3500 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rover_SD1) (a variant of the SD1a large executive car, to reflect your appropriate social standing); and people will smash your headlights in out of jealousy, because they envy your success. (Nowadays we would call them H8Rs)Let it not be said my dad was a man who started at the bottom, worked his way, and let everyone know exactly how much he was worth. On the contrary, such consumerist insecurity and the need to prove my social standing don’t extend in such a manner like that.
Who was your role model when you were growing up?
Luke Skywalker. I could use the force and get anything done. I still look forward to the day when I can lift an X-Wing with the power of my own mind alone.I’m sure its some metaphor about how the mind is mightier than the sword, and that you succeed by applying your yourself mentally. (Damn, and when I was young, I thought it was all about spaceships and lasers blowing stuff up. How naeive I was, dear reader.)
Did you go to church when you were younger?
Once a year with school. They had the school song and a service. I didn’t go tot church, and was never baptized; my parents thought it was up to me to make my mind up about it, not to be told what to think. I have a similar attitude with my child. As it says in the bible (and quoted in “Omen III:The Final conflict”) ; “Give me a child until he is six, and he is mine for life”. So, I didn’t go to church, because it held no interest for me. My brain was more logical than the magical invisible man in the sky, which always struck me as a nutty thing to believe in.
What was your school life like?
I was the geek at school. Quiet, unexceptional. That way they wouldn’t notice me. They wouldn’t pick on me. I wouldn’t get into trouble. I would keep my head down, and work ; and get where the work would get me. So the problem is then, that hard work doesn’t get you to the top. It’s a combination of luck, circumstance, who you know, and all hard work does is lock you into being a cog of that system of serving others as an employee.Its either that or the unsteadyness of self-employment.SO at school I did what had made my role models into the people they were today; hard work – combined with a mix of tedium and teenage boredom.
Did you like school?
No. being quiet didn’t help me. I discovered it was easier to make people laugh so they wouldn’t pick on you. So I made myself into a mockable, figure of fun. Better to be laughed at than punched; it defuses the impulses of those who bully. I was unexceptional (read, crap) at sports, left to my own devices. I did cross country running, which I loved; all that time alone from people, on my own.I got bored easily, and messed around.
Did academia come easy to you?
Not really. I always left it to the last minute, and stayed up late doing what I did. I could have done better, but did OK. In the long run, it wasn’t about education or learning or teaching me to get to the point where I was fit and ready and able to joining in society; it was about getting qualifications for league tables for the school, and funding. I wasn’t fit to work when I left school - too immature, too unaware, I didn’t have the mindset. That came years later.
What were you like as a teenager?
Shy, awkward, uncomfortable, unconfident, little money, stayed in my room a lot. Watched TV. I wish I had had the internet and computers when I was teenager; life would have been much less boring and much more tolerable.
Did you have any school nicknames?
Not any that were printable.
Were you a popular kid?
No, Not at all. I had people I knew, but not many friends. I think there’s maybe two people I know still from the old days back then; and one is my twin.
What did you do after school?
Window shopping, go home, watch TV. Then I spent a couple of months waiting for results, followed by a couple of months waiting for sixth form; followed by a couple of months waiting for results, followed by Uni; followed by a period on the dole, trying to find work, getting rubbish work, then getting sacked, then getting a job in a record shop. And staying there.
Did religion have much impact on your life?
Not in the early years. Only in the later years – I married a religious woman, and it caused a massive negative impact on my life. Her obsession with the church caused huge rifts between us, practically to the point of religious harassment, where at least two hours every other day she would indulge in arguments about how I should join the church. Baaa. I’m such a sheep I kept my ground and would argue every point logically and rationally. No wonder she asked me to leave; and when she did, she was flanked by a Mormon elder. Religion is nothing but a control system, instilling the fear of god into us in order to get us to obey whatever moral transepts were in vogue at the time. So, consequently,it had a very negative impact.
Did you ever get into trouble with the law?
Been Arrested twice; I don’t recommend it. Once for shoplifting when I was sixteen. Wearing Bermuda shorts and an Anthrax shirt, then sticking cassettes in your HMV bag is a stupid, immature thing to do. But on the plus side, getting caught is enough to scare the living shite out of you. The second time was three years ago, as part of a domestic; they always arrest man, never the woman. No matter what happened.
Have you had experiences of racism?
From customers, yes. Though I mostly don’t understand it when coming from men just out of prison spouting off indecipherable Patois in my general direction, but a few choice insults (such as ‘bakra’), don’t go un noticed. Young men with baseball caps and tracksuits bottoms, sat down in front of me at work, accusing me of not liking the way they look. Perhaps it was the big hooded top with the film poster of scarface brandishing the M16 A1 grenade launcher that put me off recommending them to potential employers. Similarly, another time a white man sat opposite me and asked me why he hadn’t had his money sorted out yet- and then said “If My name was Mohammed, they’d have sorted it out by now” . I told him If he was being racist I would terminate the interview and tell security to ask him to leave. And my daughter and her mother were recently racially abused verbally on a bus; “what are you doing there with your white man’s baby?” she was told. Rebecca’s mom bit their head off, so to speak; and so she should. I’ve no truck with such people.
Have you ever had a drugs phase?
No: I’ve seen the effects alcohol has had on people, and I’ve never ever wanted to end up sleeping on park benches smelling of urine. Or being one of those incapacitated morons who spends all their time saying how great dope is, and then when smoking it turns into a unintelligible, incomprehensible fool. People on drugs are the most boring people in the world. So no, never. I’ve smoked dope three times, and took speed once in 1996. You Know what? Found none of it pleasurable. Dope just gave me a headache, and speed made me paranoid. Couldn’t work out the big deal about it all. And it really does clash with my ethics: that drugs sap and debilitate your life, that they make you a slave to them, and turn you into a little more than a shell. And that may explain why I find it so boring.
Are you a political person?
Yes. Political in nature but not so much in deed. I am always trying to make sense of the world around, and I want to know the way the world works. To do so, you must be political in nature. And Politics is exceptionally important to me, because it shows you more about the machinations of the world, about human nature, about the backbiting, backslapping and insidious greed that goes on, all whilst smiling to our faces and telling us how much better it will be for all of us after they’ve lined their own pockets with the millions they should have used for the public welfare, not corporate welfare.
Are you violent by nature?
. No, honestly, I don’t understand violence. I know violence – I’ve been a victim, I’ve picked myself up from street corners with fractured jawbones and blood running down my face before; but I would never want to inflict that violence on anyone. (Except if requested in a consensual relationship, of course.)
What makes you happy?
Lots of abstract concepts that are incredibly alien And very far removed from me right now; love, security, peace, a pair of arms around you at night that loves you, the gentle tender kiss on your neck late at night and unexpectedly….
Is there any difference between the way you are and the way you are perceived?
Yes; probably. (On here I come across as a grumpy, self-obsessed, cantankerous, depressed, self-hating fool. In real life, I'm just the same, but much much nicer.)
Did you always know what you wanted to be?
I always knew what I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to work in a factory all my life with the other schmucks, my brain ain’t wired that way for tedium and machinery. Not exactly intellectually stimulating, and I’ve always been rubbish with my hands. I couldn’t wire a plug, let alone anything else. Sadly, courtesy of the Yuppie Nuremberg Defense, http://www.pbs.org/now/transcript/transcriptNOW209_full.html I’ve got a different day job, but a day job nonetheless. By night, I’m still a professional dreamer.
Tell us about the worst time of your life?
Three days after my daughter was born, I was sat in the foyer of a homeless hostel, checking in. Or more accurately, being refused to check in because of my ex-wife being behind on the rent.I didn’t have anywhere else to go – and It’s a real wake up call, I tell you.
What one experience that has had a big impact on you?
Probably the above. That and watching my mother slowly die, which was probably more traumatic than anything else.
Who has had the biggest influence on you?
Well, until recently, probably my wife. Especially now that we are apart, the experience of knowing her has been extremely…lifechanging and formative,and pretty damn consequential. So yes, a huge change. More recently, my little daughter who I adore.
What issues concern you?
Global Warming, social housing, political corruption, Private Financial Initiatives. And the general day to day bullcrap of Tonys government.
Would you consider yourself a sane person?
As sane as I can be, given the circumstances. I have a slightly skewed way of looking at the world, I’m sure some who say that, but it all makes logical, moral sense to me.
Who are your best friends?
I have not so much friends as acquaintances, as I am quite a hermetic individual. But I knopw many many people, and there are few I confide in completely. I prefer a network of close friends rather than a single best friend; but If I did say I had a best friend/therapist/general guy to moan it, It’d be Giles. He’s probably the one I spend the most time on the phone to.
What made you pick up your instrument?
Bass. Less strings, so therefore easier. And Steve Harris, Geddy Lee, and Gene Simmons have a lot to answer for.
What first got you into music?
Iron maidens “Live After Death”. The atmosphere. The Power. The guitars. The long hair. The men doing what they wanted to do as brave rock warriors, worth millions with women at their beck at call. Scream for me, long Beach!SCREAM FOR ME, LONG BEACH! You know what I’m talking about.
What was your first show like?
I was 16, it was MATRICS. Mega Awesome Terrifically Rock Induced Culture Shock. We weren’t very good. Shambolic, actually, was the word. But It was brilliant, because I wanted to be a rock star, and for 38 minutes, I was, in my own little world, screaming at people as a backing vocalist with a metal belt made of paperclips, acne, short hair, and crap glasses. There’s since been Dorsal Fin, a five piece SoCal Punk rock band I badgered into doing a show who played 28 minutes with a couple of great songs and a cover of Weezer’s “SurfWax America”; the live tape of the show is distorted into unlistenability due to unfeasibly high gain levels off the mixing desk, one show only but pretty memorable – and Volume. Who were far less crap than any of the other bands. And I wrote a few of the songs, which was much more gratifying.
What was your first shag like?
Relieving. I had the Adrian mole thing the next day of wandering around and wondering if people would know, If they could tell just by looking at me that I was now a “man” of the world. It was a bit painful, but the second one was far far nicer.
Is it true you ask women to shave themselves before sex?
No. But sometimes it’s a nice surprise if they are.
How important is sex to your being?
Well, it’s a nice bonus, but its not everything.
If you could live your life over, what would you do differently?
Lots of it. But In chronological order:-
I wouldn’t wait two weeks for clearing whilst at uni.
I wouldn’t have taken that job at the call center. And If I had, I would have left.
I wouldn’t have spent quite so many late nights on the internet
I would have realized that I wasn’t ever gone be a rock star.
I would have taken better care of my health
I wouldn’t have moved out of my dads, I would have found somewhere else not in Walsall.
I wouldn’t have dumped that girl who never did me a single wrong.
I certainly wouldn’t have married that Mormon ex.
I wouldn’t have decided not to Phone Scottish Girl for an entire week and then got dumped.
That sort of thing.
What is your philosophy on life?
Smell the flowers while you can
(I've been tagged by Lithaborn. I will do that tag. But I started this one, from Metalhammer's April 2000 issue and the 'this is your life' feature. Spread it around, please, if you like)
When and Where you born?
July 1973, in hospital in Birmingham.
Where did you grow up?
Birmingham, at home. (Wheres that?) Where I live. (Nice place?) yeah, Sure I guess. (Tell me about your mother…).
What is your earliest memory?
Falling over in a pub carpark, onto the gravel and glass. I was about two– and I remember the bright sunlight, the looking down and seeing blood in my hand. Then I went to hospitable and it was BIG. The rooms were so much bigger than me. So, my first memory is pain. Very emo of me, I know. Very dramatic too. But true.
What was your upbringing like?
Cosy, suburban, typical Middle class. Job, car, 2 kids, dog, the holiday abroad everysummer, the extra marital affair from working late at the office being kept under wraps, the late night phone calls....oh.Keeping up with the Joneses and fitting in, that what it seems it was about.
Do you have happy memories of that time?
The memories I do have aren't unhappy. nor happy. Just flat. i never would appreciate the joy of not going to work and crawling out of bed at shit o'clock and battling commuter traffic and struggling with paying the phone bill until I had to do it. My main source of neuroses from that time was wondering what would happen in the next issue of Comando comic, (hereafter entitled 'Die Fritz!') or playing with Star wars toys. From the age of 11 onwards though, it was mainly concerned with if my mum would discover the porn mags under my bed.
Did you ever have nightmares?
Very rarely. I did have a recurring nightmare about driving around old hollowed out derelict abbeys next to a cliff with a reddening sky of fire above me, but I haven’t had it in a long logn time. It probably doesn’t mean anything anyway, I don't really remember the majority of my dreams, though. Last one I had I was singing in the pet Shop boys doing a musical which was like 100 of their songs megamixed. And I kept on forgetting the words.And Chris Lowe gave me such a filthy look like you wouldn’t believe….
Do you have any brothers or sisters?One. Him. (Not captain chaos). I’m the better looking one of the two, obviously.
How would you Describe your relationship with them?
Good, but occasionally strained. (EDIT: he describes me as being a twat sometimes, but we all are. Anyone who doesn't admit they are sometimes a bit of an idiot and do foolish things is obviously perfect, and hence, in mormon terms; "translated". Ha! We're only human)
What did your parents do?
My mum worked in a solicitors, typing and doing letters. And not being very well. My father worked as a variety of things, mainly an office manager / ourchasing estimator / manager for industrial companies. The sort of thing where you leave school and get a job in a factory and work your way up into the office and then plateau, because your social skills of dragging yourself up from the streets wear you down to the point where all the office politics crap is dealt with by a clash of personalities rather than how well you do the job. I suppose that makes my dad the arch-typical working class boy who did good, dreamed of a sporting career, then had to settle down and get a proper career when the boys came along; even if that was at the age of 31, when you’re old enough to have plateaued in sport anyway and on the slope down. He coulda been someone, well, so could anyone.
Your family; Are you close to them now?
Only my brother. Similar cultural background, same friends, same movies and books and gigs. My father and I are quite distant – it must be a horrible feeling when your children don’t need you anymore, when you need them more than they need you, when they are old enough to leave home and pay their own bills. He’s someone I don’t really have anyone in common with.
What Sort of Values did they instil in you?
Go to school. Succeed. Go really well at sport. Stand around in a field freezing your balls off because you can’t wear glasses and be a champion sportsman at the same time. Don’t get caught nobbing women who aren’t your wife. The apex of human achievement is a dark green BMW, or a Black Rover Vanden Plas 3500 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rover_SD1) (a variant of the SD1a large executive car, to reflect your appropriate social standing); and people will smash your headlights in out of jealousy, because they envy your success. (Nowadays we would call them H8Rs)Let it not be said my dad was a man who started at the bottom, worked his way, and let everyone know exactly how much he was worth. On the contrary, such consumerist insecurity and the need to prove my social standing don’t extend in such a manner like that.
Who was your role model when you were growing up?
Luke Skywalker. I could use the force and get anything done. I still look forward to the day when I can lift an X-Wing with the power of my own mind alone.I’m sure its some metaphor about how the mind is mightier than the sword, and that you succeed by applying your yourself mentally. (Damn, and when I was young, I thought it was all about spaceships and lasers blowing stuff up. How naeive I was, dear reader.)
Did you go to church when you were younger?
Once a year with school. They had the school song and a service. I didn’t go tot church, and was never baptized; my parents thought it was up to me to make my mind up about it, not to be told what to think. I have a similar attitude with my child. As it says in the bible (and quoted in “Omen III:The Final conflict”) ; “Give me a child until he is six, and he is mine for life”. So, I didn’t go to church, because it held no interest for me. My brain was more logical than the magical invisible man in the sky, which always struck me as a nutty thing to believe in.
What was your school life like?
I was the geek at school. Quiet, unexceptional. That way they wouldn’t notice me. They wouldn’t pick on me. I wouldn’t get into trouble. I would keep my head down, and work ; and get where the work would get me. So the problem is then, that hard work doesn’t get you to the top. It’s a combination of luck, circumstance, who you know, and all hard work does is lock you into being a cog of that system of serving others as an employee.Its either that or the unsteadyness of self-employment.SO at school I did what had made my role models into the people they were today; hard work – combined with a mix of tedium and teenage boredom.
Did you like school?
No. being quiet didn’t help me. I discovered it was easier to make people laugh so they wouldn’t pick on you. So I made myself into a mockable, figure of fun. Better to be laughed at than punched; it defuses the impulses of those who bully. I was unexceptional (read, crap) at sports, left to my own devices. I did cross country running, which I loved; all that time alone from people, on my own.I got bored easily, and messed around.
Did academia come easy to you?
Not really. I always left it to the last minute, and stayed up late doing what I did. I could have done better, but did OK. In the long run, it wasn’t about education or learning or teaching me to get to the point where I was fit and ready and able to joining in society; it was about getting qualifications for league tables for the school, and funding. I wasn’t fit to work when I left school - too immature, too unaware, I didn’t have the mindset. That came years later.
What were you like as a teenager?
Shy, awkward, uncomfortable, unconfident, little money, stayed in my room a lot. Watched TV. I wish I had had the internet and computers when I was teenager; life would have been much less boring and much more tolerable.
Did you have any school nicknames?
Not any that were printable.
Were you a popular kid?
No, Not at all. I had people I knew, but not many friends. I think there’s maybe two people I know still from the old days back then; and one is my twin.
What did you do after school?
Window shopping, go home, watch TV. Then I spent a couple of months waiting for results, followed by a couple of months waiting for sixth form; followed by a couple of months waiting for results, followed by Uni; followed by a period on the dole, trying to find work, getting rubbish work, then getting sacked, then getting a job in a record shop. And staying there.
Did religion have much impact on your life?
Not in the early years. Only in the later years – I married a religious woman, and it caused a massive negative impact on my life. Her obsession with the church caused huge rifts between us, practically to the point of religious harassment, where at least two hours every other day she would indulge in arguments about how I should join the church. Baaa. I’m such a sheep I kept my ground and would argue every point logically and rationally. No wonder she asked me to leave; and when she did, she was flanked by a Mormon elder. Religion is nothing but a control system, instilling the fear of god into us in order to get us to obey whatever moral transepts were in vogue at the time. So, consequently,it had a very negative impact.
Did you ever get into trouble with the law?
Been Arrested twice; I don’t recommend it. Once for shoplifting when I was sixteen. Wearing Bermuda shorts and an Anthrax shirt, then sticking cassettes in your HMV bag is a stupid, immature thing to do. But on the plus side, getting caught is enough to scare the living shite out of you. The second time was three years ago, as part of a domestic; they always arrest man, never the woman. No matter what happened.
Have you had experiences of racism?
From customers, yes. Though I mostly don’t understand it when coming from men just out of prison spouting off indecipherable Patois in my general direction, but a few choice insults (such as ‘bakra’), don’t go un noticed. Young men with baseball caps and tracksuits bottoms, sat down in front of me at work, accusing me of not liking the way they look. Perhaps it was the big hooded top with the film poster of scarface brandishing the M16 A1 grenade launcher that put me off recommending them to potential employers. Similarly, another time a white man sat opposite me and asked me why he hadn’t had his money sorted out yet- and then said “If My name was Mohammed, they’d have sorted it out by now” . I told him If he was being racist I would terminate the interview and tell security to ask him to leave. And my daughter and her mother were recently racially abused verbally on a bus; “what are you doing there with your white man’s baby?” she was told. Rebecca’s mom bit their head off, so to speak; and so she should. I’ve no truck with such people.
Have you ever had a drugs phase?
No: I’ve seen the effects alcohol has had on people, and I’ve never ever wanted to end up sleeping on park benches smelling of urine. Or being one of those incapacitated morons who spends all their time saying how great dope is, and then when smoking it turns into a unintelligible, incomprehensible fool. People on drugs are the most boring people in the world. So no, never. I’ve smoked dope three times, and took speed once in 1996. You Know what? Found none of it pleasurable. Dope just gave me a headache, and speed made me paranoid. Couldn’t work out the big deal about it all. And it really does clash with my ethics: that drugs sap and debilitate your life, that they make you a slave to them, and turn you into a little more than a shell. And that may explain why I find it so boring.
Are you a political person?
Yes. Political in nature but not so much in deed. I am always trying to make sense of the world around, and I want to know the way the world works. To do so, you must be political in nature. And Politics is exceptionally important to me, because it shows you more about the machinations of the world, about human nature, about the backbiting, backslapping and insidious greed that goes on, all whilst smiling to our faces and telling us how much better it will be for all of us after they’ve lined their own pockets with the millions they should have used for the public welfare, not corporate welfare.
Are you violent by nature?
. No, honestly, I don’t understand violence. I know violence – I’ve been a victim, I’ve picked myself up from street corners with fractured jawbones and blood running down my face before; but I would never want to inflict that violence on anyone. (Except if requested in a consensual relationship, of course.)
What makes you happy?
Lots of abstract concepts that are incredibly alien And very far removed from me right now; love, security, peace, a pair of arms around you at night that loves you, the gentle tender kiss on your neck late at night and unexpectedly….
Is there any difference between the way you are and the way you are perceived?
Yes; probably. (On here I come across as a grumpy, self-obsessed, cantankerous, depressed, self-hating fool. In real life, I'm just the same, but much much nicer.)
Did you always know what you wanted to be?
I always knew what I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to work in a factory all my life with the other schmucks, my brain ain’t wired that way for tedium and machinery. Not exactly intellectually stimulating, and I’ve always been rubbish with my hands. I couldn’t wire a plug, let alone anything else. Sadly, courtesy of the Yuppie Nuremberg Defense, http://www.pbs.org/now/transcript/transcriptNOW209_full.html I’ve got a different day job, but a day job nonetheless. By night, I’m still a professional dreamer.
Tell us about the worst time of your life?
Three days after my daughter was born, I was sat in the foyer of a homeless hostel, checking in. Or more accurately, being refused to check in because of my ex-wife being behind on the rent.I didn’t have anywhere else to go – and It’s a real wake up call, I tell you.
What one experience that has had a big impact on you?
Probably the above. That and watching my mother slowly die, which was probably more traumatic than anything else.
Who has had the biggest influence on you?
Well, until recently, probably my wife. Especially now that we are apart, the experience of knowing her has been extremely…lifechanging and formative,and pretty damn consequential. So yes, a huge change. More recently, my little daughter who I adore.
What issues concern you?
Global Warming, social housing, political corruption, Private Financial Initiatives. And the general day to day bullcrap of Tonys government.
Would you consider yourself a sane person?
As sane as I can be, given the circumstances. I have a slightly skewed way of looking at the world, I’m sure some who say that, but it all makes logical, moral sense to me.
Who are your best friends?
I have not so much friends as acquaintances, as I am quite a hermetic individual. But I knopw many many people, and there are few I confide in completely. I prefer a network of close friends rather than a single best friend; but If I did say I had a best friend/therapist/general guy to moan it, It’d be Giles. He’s probably the one I spend the most time on the phone to.
What made you pick up your instrument?
Bass. Less strings, so therefore easier. And Steve Harris, Geddy Lee, and Gene Simmons have a lot to answer for.
What first got you into music?
Iron maidens “Live After Death”. The atmosphere. The Power. The guitars. The long hair. The men doing what they wanted to do as brave rock warriors, worth millions with women at their beck at call. Scream for me, long Beach!SCREAM FOR ME, LONG BEACH! You know what I’m talking about.
What was your first show like?
I was 16, it was MATRICS. Mega Awesome Terrifically Rock Induced Culture Shock. We weren’t very good. Shambolic, actually, was the word. But It was brilliant, because I wanted to be a rock star, and for 38 minutes, I was, in my own little world, screaming at people as a backing vocalist with a metal belt made of paperclips, acne, short hair, and crap glasses. There’s since been Dorsal Fin, a five piece SoCal Punk rock band I badgered into doing a show who played 28 minutes with a couple of great songs and a cover of Weezer’s “SurfWax America”; the live tape of the show is distorted into unlistenability due to unfeasibly high gain levels off the mixing desk, one show only but pretty memorable – and Volume. Who were far less crap than any of the other bands. And I wrote a few of the songs, which was much more gratifying.
What was your first shag like?
Relieving. I had the Adrian mole thing the next day of wandering around and wondering if people would know, If they could tell just by looking at me that I was now a “man” of the world. It was a bit painful, but the second one was far far nicer.
Is it true you ask women to shave themselves before sex?
No. But sometimes it’s a nice surprise if they are.
How important is sex to your being?
Well, it’s a nice bonus, but its not everything.
If you could live your life over, what would you do differently?
Lots of it. But In chronological order:-
I wouldn’t wait two weeks for clearing whilst at uni.
I wouldn’t have taken that job at the call center. And If I had, I would have left.
I wouldn’t have spent quite so many late nights on the internet
I would have realized that I wasn’t ever gone be a rock star.
I would have taken better care of my health
I wouldn’t have moved out of my dads, I would have found somewhere else not in Walsall.
I wouldn’t have dumped that girl who never did me a single wrong.
I certainly wouldn’t have married that Mormon ex.
I wouldn’t have decided not to Phone Scottish Girl for an entire week and then got dumped.
That sort of thing.
What is your philosophy on life?
Smell the flowers while you can
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