| Bad vibes |
[Nov. 12th, 2009|12:14 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Shitted | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Luke Haines: 21st Century Man | ] |
Oh dear. It's been a shitter of a week so far.
Loads of working late. As if it's not enough trying to finish off writing up all of my team's appraisals by the deadline on Friday, my agreeing to join the college's Academic Council is coming to haunt me already. There's a three hour meeting tomorrow afternoon, and I was handed a full lever-arch folder to read beforehand; actual hundreds of pages. This had better look bloody good on my CV for all of the hassle and inconvenience in life that it's causing.
In other work fuss I was called to attend a first aid incident on Monday, thought I was never ever going to leave on Tuesday evening and then some twat got his laptop nicked by leaving it unattended in the library today. Oh joy. No, they don't pay me enough. I also discovered yesterday that my Gmail had stopped working, but I've received no response to any of my attempts to have this attended to; until now I had no idea that Google were so shit.
Let's see, what else... I thought I was well in the money when Ngog scored the opener on Monday night (just waiting for a 4-1 scoreline to come in at 60/1), before events slowly morphed into the shape of one pear. Brakes came onstage later than I'd anticipated last night, and consequently I arrived early enough to see the worst support band of the year so far. And the Lovely S has been unwell.
Tonight I eventually escaped work two hours late, then went straight to the gym. I should have realised it was all going wrong when I discovered that I'd forgotten my water bottle, although worse was to follow when I got home and realised that I've now lost my padlock (there's another fiver down the toilet). Tomorrow night I was supposed to be seeing Luke Haines play at Rough Trade East, only I stupidly double-booked and I'm already ticketed to see a comedy show instead. Unless The Lovely S is still unwell, in which case I may end up going to see The Haines after all. Oh, what a mess.
What else? RIP Robert Enke, poor bloke. Today I asked our CEO whether he's mentally ill on Young Persons' Facebook; he does have a sense of humour, but still, probably not the best way to enhance your employment prospects. Anyway, I was fucked off, and he deserved it... Would it be wrong for me to complain about the ignorance of an article written in The Left Wing Daily Mail The Independent ten months after it was published? Whilst searching for something else altogether this afternoon I stumbled upon a review of the Luke Haines autobiography which was plagued with inaccuracies. Here, have an example:
Despite the legend, he never released a Christmas single called "Unsolved Child Murder".
Well, out here in planet reality, Mr Shite Journalist, The Auteurs released their “Back With The Killer” e.p. in December 1995, and the lead track was “Unsolved Child Murder” you braindead, total and utter fucking idiot.
Cheer me up. I dare you. In the meantime, there's a big sink full of washing up to do... |
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| Moaning Monday |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|09:23 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Monday | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Not Luke Haines or Brakes | ] |
I had a spectacularly nice weekend. It was lovely from start to finish, and I saw an unhealthily generous number of friends along the way. Yep, it was utterly great. But today, of course, it's a Monday; so today I think I will complain about things. Because that's fundamentally what Livejournal is for, isn't it?
Let's start with the mail. I have previously expressed sympathy with the striking postal workers, but warned them that my support would only stretch so far. Today I'm being tested. My pre-ordered copy of the new Luke Haines album (limited edition double CD) did not arrive. Admittedly I'm not yet at the point where I become a serial killer and start murdering a postman every day until it drops onto my doormat, but I would like to receive it soon please. And the new Brakes live CD which was also supposed to arrive today. If I can have them tomorrow then I'll happily come down to the picket line to collect them, and even wear some kind of protest sticker for you all week as a result (or until it starts to curl up a bit and drops off of my coat, whichever is sooner).
Let's also moan about Ladbrokes. Those of you who patron Young Persons' Facebook may already have read about my win on Saturday; the combination of Clint Dempsey to score the last goal of the match with a correct score of 3-1 to Fulham (at kind odds of 225/1). But those who have read my previous complaints about the insurmountable difficulties experienced when trying to claim your actual winnings out of Ladbrokes must surely have anticipated me coming down to earth with a bump. At lunchtime today I spent ten minutes trying to collect the cash, only to eventually be asked to visit a different shop because the staff in my local one were too stupid to figure it out. I'll try again (elsewhere) tomorrow. Give me my money, you cheating bastards.
In other complaints, in an indescribably important flick-to-kick tabletop game I drew 1-1 with MD early Saturday evening. I shan't be too bitter about the fact that he actually played most of the first half with twelve men (I'm prepared to accept his explanation that it was “an oversight” or something like that), and that I played most of the second with ten (I didn't notice that one of my players was sitting in the back of his goal net after a corner had been put into the mixer – a basic schoolboy error). But I was 1-0 up at half time, and I threw it away. It hurts. We don't play again for another month now. And, believe me, I am hungry...
In a non-moan, commiserations to Liverpool who were all over us in the first half on Saturday, and whose fans acquitted themselves a lot better than most of those elsewhere in the table do when they come to Craven Cottage. Nice to be able to drink and socialise with away fans before and after the game; you certainly can't do that with Manchester City, Burnley, Birmingham, Bolton, Stoke, Wolves... If they'd killed us off before half time then they'd also be back in the top four as well (and the first red card awarded was extremely harsh), which is where I secretly hope they'll find themselves again before too long.
But back onto the complaints... I'm sorry to be the the bearer of sour tidings, but Jamie Carragher really is a knob. Discontent with gazing into the mouth of his gift horse after demolishing Bobby Zamora with the goal at his mercy (no red card, no penalty, fortune twinklingly smiles upon James), ten minutes later he was sent off for a professional foul. Apparently he is outraged, and will appeal. Perhaps he's appealing against the fact that he wasn't sent off ten minutes earlier? Anyway, judge the decision for yourself. Cleanly played the ball without committing a foul did you, Jamie? Didn't touch him ref! Nope, you're right Jamie; that's never a foul, is it? You clearly didn't lay a finger on him.
Happy birthday to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) sir_guernica tomorrow. Even though he's something really offensive like about twenty-five or something.
Oh yeah, and please sponsor azureskies, to raise money for The Prostate Cancer Charity. I insist that you do. You can sponsor him here.
You can get rid of the Halloween header at the top of the page now, Livejournal. Thanks. |
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| Ninety-seven pence |
[Oct. 26th, 2009|09:50 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Modern | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Wave Pictures: If You Leave It Alone | ] |
First of all, many thanks to those of you that voted in my poll from the post before last. I did actually learn something very useful from it; namely that more than two thirds of respondents read the post within twenty-four hours of it being posted, and that in fact nobody at all read it more than three days later.
I guess I ought to focus on trying to be more topical and current in my posts then; so today we'll avoid any such ramblings as going off on one about how The Mountain Goats played Old College Try at the Queen Elizabeth Hall the other week (just about the only song from “Tallahassee” which they didn't play when they toured with that album seven years ago), my feelings towards foot-in-mouth arsewipe Steve Bruce after his comments in the wake of the beachballgate scandal (no, little Steven, you are not a “saddo” if you actually know the rules of football, you are a braindead, worthless fucking cretin if you regularly go on television complaining about referees' decisions when you don't even know the fucking rules) or Roma's controversial equaliser with the very last kick of the match on Thursday (ouch, how that one hurt).
So in a nod towards more timely conversation, I noticed this piece about pub etiquette in The Guardian today which generated a large amount of discussion. Comments were largely homogenous (and tended to state the bleeding obvious on the whole), but I did feel strangely vindicated regarding last Thursday evening. You see, whilst I was waiting to be served in the Duke Of Cornwall I lost ten minutes of vital pre-football drinking time stuck behind two people in front of me who both paid for their respective drink (singular - just one drink each) by credit card. I was secretly hoping that the barman would pull out a gun and shoot them; only without the "secretly" part. Readers of The Guardian, it would seem, are generally in agreement with me on this point.
I was instantly reminded of a post by ruudboy the other day about waiting at cash machines; and, let's face it, who hasn't rued the theft of huge chunks of their life queueing behind people who appear to be trying to remotely access their e-mail or type out a livejournal post on the keypad in binary or something? Or worse still, people who stand there doing nothing for ages; just gazing. Didn't you give the slightest thought to how much money you wanted to withdraw before you started generating the world's biggest queue behind you, as we stand here for most of the afternoon waiting for you to grow a brain?
The locale most likely to turn me into a grumpy old man, however, has to be without doubt the ticket office at Victoria station. I've long felt that to avoid having to arrive at rail stations like Victoria at least forty-five minutes before your train is due to leave just to purchase a ticket (which can't be booked online), they should have a separate ticket window for people who just want to buy a ticket. Something like Ticket Windows 1-19 for those who wish to discuss world politics, request a comprehensive verbal history of the rail network from the emergence of steam engines through to The Beeching Report or ask the person in the ticket window whether they've ever really thought about Jesus; Ticket Window 20 for people actually wanting to buy a train ticket (the act of which takes less than fifteen minutes) in order to catch a train and go somewhere. I think that would do the trick.
Anyway, that's the end of today's rant; you can blame The Guardian for getting me started on that. And fortunately I'm very tolerant indeed; I've never murdered a single person in any of the above scenarios. I'm going to stop now, before I start sounding like some kind of left-wing Jeremy Clarkson or something...
I bought a new comb on my way home tonight, to replace the extremely manky old one which I've been using for the past fifteen years. It only cost me 97p. Why on earth didn't I do that sooner? When combs are that cheap, why don't I buy a new one every year? No wonder my hair usually looks shit.
Are you coming to see The Wave Pictures on Friday night? You are? Good, good, see you there. |
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| A Grand Day Out |
[Oct. 16th, 2009|07:56 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | On balance, it's a good week | ] |
| [ | music |
| | A northern person on the radio | ] |
Waitrose do really good garlic, you know. But you didn't visit my journal today to read that...
I finally bought a new monitor yesterday, to replace my knackered screen, but it's turned out to be an annoying 16:10 widescreen crapper. It's beginning to irritate me already; but you didn't visit my journal today to read that either...
Thanks to those of you who voted in the poll in my last post. The result is still pending at this point in time, but I will discuss further in my next one. In the meantime, let's have some Friday Photos. Yes, let's. A few weeks ago, we all went to see the Wallace and Gromit World of Cracking Ideas at The Science Museum. And, well... Why try to explain, when a picture can tell a thousand words? Go on, dip in.
( Aren't they getting big these days... )
Any chance you'll have a good weekend? Go on, give it a go. Just for me. Thanks. |
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| Murder On The Leyton Express |
[Oct. 7th, 2009|10:07 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Prodigal | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Mountain Goats: The Life Of The World To Come | ] |
Oh El Jay, how I hath forsaken ye. I've been rubbish, haven't I? A combination of always working late, and I suppose not having very much of interest to tell you about recently. I've let you down. Sorry.
However, one thing of interest for me in my life is that the new CD by The Mountain Goats has just arrived on my doormat today. I was expecting it on Monday; but, well, I suppose they must have been doing more of those postal strikes recently which they seem to have every day. Whilst I am certainly sympathetic in principal (in terms of employment and all that), there is something of a ceiling to my understanding caused by the fact that they are universally so incredibly unhelpful, unfriendly and useless in every single dealing that I ever have with them. In today's delivery I also discovered letters clearly addressed to the house next door. Hmmm, I wonder how much of my post gets delivered to other people's houses? Anyway...
At this point I should like to add that they're still better than Amazon. Please take my advice. If you are ordering multiple books* then please order them one at a time (a few days apart) rather than in a big bundle; because then (a) at least those poor downtrodden postal workers will get a bit of extra trade, and (b) you might actually then have an outside chance of receiving them. My word, how useless are “myhdnl” whom Amazon seem to use at the moment?
Hmmm, how can I possibly describe my delivery hell in brief? Well, they don't turn up on days that you've arranged a delivery, they refuse to arrange deliveries on Saturdays (despite having left me a card last Saturday saying that they attempted a delivery), and their website makes it almost impossible to contact them – no e-mail address, and when you try to phone them the line is almost always busy. If you finally do manage to get through on the dog+bone** then you're put in a queue, where you wait for exactly ten minutes before the line goes dead. After ninety minutes of trying I finally spoke with someone who still says that they don't ever deliver on Saturdays (hello?), they refuse to deliver to my work address, and if I don't come up and collect the parcel from their depot (in Wembley) during the three hour window that they're open on this coming Saturday morning then I will have passed the collection deadline and the parcel is going back to the sender. Consequently, I will be cycling up to Wembley during the waking hours of the weekend. And never ordering a parcel of eight paperbacks from Amazon ever again. Heed my advice, kids; it's not worth the hassle.
Work has been very demanding recently; in hours and in content. But some small nice moments sneaking through... Yesterday morning I attended a meeting at which our BVC department were severely reprimanded (in great detail) by the Bar Standards Board, for greedily over-recruiting students but not putting the resources into place to provide them with the levels of service expected.
After a succession of unrelenting character assassinations (in an Anne Robinson stylie), my turn finally came around. I told those BSB cats (as Spud from Trainspotting would probably have described them) about all the measures I have in place to ensure that enough resources are provided (and about how I monitor users' needs and use of materials/services to ensure this); they told me in response that they were very impressed with what I'm doing (and asked me to keep up the good work). I instantly foresaw a Murder on the Orient Express scenario emerging, as fifty five people in the room instantly wanted to kill me. However, somebody told me in the lift this morning that she thought I was brilliant at the meeting yesterday (and kind of pulled things back when they were getting really bad), so maybe it's just fifty four suspects for my forthcoming murder after all.
In further work flattery (be careful Mark, keep it modest) my previous quiz night successes haven't gone unnoticed... There's an inquisitive event taking place shortly for the departments based at our student support and services site around the corner, and two different gangs have asked me to join their team as a ringer. Unfortunately it falls on the evening that The Lovely S and me already have tickets to go and see The Wave Pictures at the end of this month; but still, it's nice to be asked though.
In other news, would a young person out there please be prepared to explain to me how I do Freecycle? I'm considering that if The Lovely S and myself are to buy a house together next year (as is the current plan), I ought to think soon about discarding some of the items which have sat in this flat for almost fourteen years and never been touched. The problem is, though, that it doesn't look very accessible. There seems to be some kind of a separate Yahoo group for every single London borough – is this really how it works? Do I only post it once at the London Borough of Hammersmith and Fulham location; will everybody actually see that, or do I need to spread it around somehow? How does it work? Any assistance greatly appreciated.
In good news, it's hoshuteki's birthday tomorrow. Hooray! Are you coming to the pub? I'm planning to do everything within my earthly powers to leave work on time, then pop off for a quick swim before experiencing the alcoholic pleasantries of Clerkenwell (should be there by 8pm I hope). I'm sure that Ewan's birthday drink doesn't need pimping up though, as he's a very nice bloke and can easily draw a crowd without my input. I shall need to dash off to catch the train down from Farringdon to Herney*** though (and they finish relatively early), as The Lovely S will be away this weekend so we're planning to have cuddles and company tomorrow night.
Hope your lives are all great at the moment, anyway? Hooray?
*or any other genre of item, come to think of it
**Cockney rhyming slang
***Herne Hill |
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| Friday Photos |
[Sep. 18th, 2009|06:06 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Home | ] |
| [ | music |
| | British Sea Power: Do You Like Rock Music? | ] |
Hello, I'm back. Would you like to hear about my trip? Would you like to see some photos? OK then, I'm happy to oblige with both. Here we go then...
Ten things you probably didn't know about Bulgaria:
1. The sheer 1970s-ness of the whole country strikes you from the moment that you arrive. Despite travelling from the airport in a licensed taxi from the city's main operator OK Supertrans I noticed that the taxi driver smoked in the cab, and the wing mirror was held together with masking tape. During our journey he had to hit the dashboard several times to get the radio to restart. He also had the kind of haircut that it's been impossible to get in the UK since about 1980.
2. Do not believe anything you read in guide books about young people there learning English as their second language; only about five people in the whole of Bulgaria speak English. Although one lady I spoke with in a shop seemed to think I was French; after I purchased a bottle of water (speaking in attempted Bulgarian), she looked pleased with herself as she answered with Merci.
3. The main occupation in Bulgaria seems to be, er, sweeping. Absolutely everywhere there were people permanently sweeping; when I first arrived I appreciated the distinct lack of litter and assumed this to be a throwback to the old communist rule (when you probably got banged up in prison for about twenty years for dropping a crisp packet). However, I soon realised it was simply the case that discarded detritus would barely survive thirty seconds without being swept up.
4. Rumours which I'd previously heard that the whole of Eastern Europe resembles one big rough-looking council estate were certainly reinforced in Sofia. Outside of the city centre, the entire place looks like downtown Peckham. Every single residence displays some form of external wear or damage, and the blokes all hang around in shell suits looking like drug dealers or pimps. Once you wander into the estates everywhere looks dark, even during the afternoon.
5. Public toilets simply do not exist in Sofia. Most of the bars are small gazebo type set-ups (on open greens or alongside main roads), and even these do not have lavatories. People in Bulgaria just don't seem to actually go to the toilet. I'm completely serious. I had to go in the bushes several times whist I was there; after hanging on for hours, there was simply no choice.
6. They like their heads in Bulgaria. There were busts absolutely everywhere, you couldn't find a single small patch of greenery without several funny-looking metal faces peering at you. Maybe Bulgaria literally translates as “Land of Heads” or something. If not, then it definitely should do. Heads everywhere.
7. Paranoia from the old days of the Eastern Bloc still seems to hang in the background, as soon as you get your camera out everybody over the age of about thirty looks nervous. Whenever the shutter went I saw doors closed, people vanishing back through windows and uniformed staff outside public buildings quickly straightening their ties.
8. Apart from the cafés and bars, there is pretty much nothing to do for young people in the evenings. So they all hang out, en mass, in the parks. In the dark. Sitting around doing nothing for most of the time. In contrast to Britain, however, there is a complete absence of crime resulting from this. I didn't see a policeman in the city centre at any point; I only know what they look like from the football match. Oh, and skateboarding appears to be pretty big there.
9. If you think you've seen bad driving before, you'll be forced to think again after you visit Bulgaria. The city's background noise is a permanent car horn; drivers don't just hoot once or twice, they simply hold it down until the traffic manoeuvre which they are unhappy about has reached its conclusion. Don't think that the green man means that you can safely cross the road either, oh no. Wait until somebody local wants to reach the other side of the road and stick close to them, otherwise you're taking your life into your own hands.
10. Bulgarian Music is largely dreadful. They're not really interested in ours (the only western pop music I heard from radios and car stereos was horrendous seventies anthems), and modern-day Bulgarian music appears to resemble traditional folk music set to some kind of baggy/acid house backdrop. I didn't see a single CD on sale anywhere in the country (they certainly don't have record shops); although every retail outlet (regardless of its genre) seems to also sell alcohol, so I guess they just all prefer drinking instead.
Well, enough of the top ten; on with the photos...
( Онлайн превод )
Still, it's nice to be home. |
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| Remember you're a womble |
[Sep. 15th, 2009|09:42 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Anitcipational | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pacific Ocean Fire: Strangers And Deranged Patients | ] |
I'm just about to pack for Bulgaria, ready to head off in the morning towards our Europa League match on Thursday evening (via Gatwick Airport). I wonder what the weather's going to be like in Sofia later this week? Nice and warm, maybe; with a hint of autumn in the late evening? Deep red skies, with a cool breeze blowing in from the Black Sea across the Balkan Mountains? Perhaps BBC Weather can give me a few clues regarding what to pack?
Oh fucking hell. Never mind, there will be plenty of museums and galleries to see in the city which are indoors, and at least I'll be able to stay dry during the match. If it's a UEFA four star rated stadium, it's a safe assumption that we'll be under cover, isn't it?
Oh bugger. Looks like I'll be off work next week with pneumonia then...
Anything else you want to know about? st_sardonicist joined me in the pub on Saturday evening, and was on sparkling form; and for any of you over there wondering about his trip, he's doing well so far. I think I may just have converted him to Kronenbourg, in my attempts to promote English culture in a favourable way.
Let's have some more football, shall we... Today I ordered thirteen tickets for Liverpool v Fulham, in the away end. Well, actually it's in the “neutral” area, but this will be almost exclusively full of away fans for that tie anyway; don't worry azureskies, you're fine to wear your shirt/scarf/accent in that area. The Lovely S is bringing enough friends along to qualify for starting up their own songs, so I'm expecting to hear them all singing from the Hammersmith End.
If you make it home from work by 6pm on Thursday, CSKA Sofia v Fulham will be live on ITV4. I'll try to give you all a wave through the rainstorm... |
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| The Man From (Great) Uncle |
[Sep. 8th, 2009|11:25 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | It's all coming up | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Kitchens Of Distinction: Strange Free World | ] |
Hello journal. Here is some stuff.
Bloody hell,what an incredible pop concert last night. Drugstore were indescribably superb, so I won't even try. They played for an hour and three quarters; and, well, it was all a bit emotional in the end. Honestly, where were you?
It did bring to mind a pub conversation from about two or three years ago, when I remember spontaneously listing the ten bands which I most wished would reform, but probably never would. Since then, I've had four of them; Drugstore, The Jesus And Mary Chain, Throwing Muses and American Music Club. Now I'm just waiting for Kitchens Of Distinction, Sidi Bou Said, Gene, The Sperm Wails, Submarine and The Shop Assistants. I suppose I could also add The Broken Family Band as an eleventh now, even though they aren't actually packing it all in until after their forthcoming tour.
On the subject of pop music, if anybody would like a pair of tickets to go and see iLiKETRAiNS at The Garage on 22nd October then let me know; you can have them for free. Unfortunately it clashes with our home game against Roma in the Euroshit Cup (although we are actually through to the Euroshit League stage now). By the way, for any of you who missed the announcement (because you don't want to be my friend on Young Persons' Facebook) I can also share the news here that I'm going to Sofia next week. I eventually decided that I'm grown up enough to go on my own; so, er, bring it on.
Plenty of fun to be fitted in before that though. I'm hoping to go for a drink with the excellent st_sardonicist this weekend, and before that there is the small matter of England v Croatia on (the usually dreadful) ITV tomorrow night. Come over if you fancy it, I will be providing nibbles. Just don't arrive too early though as I'm going running after work beforehand; 7:45pm sounds like a good time to come over (kick off 8pm). Don't drink the gin though, as that's reserved for my lovely girlfriend.
Speaking of nibbles, Waitrose made me smile today. Items such as cheesey puffs and salt & vinegar twists are labelled as members of the Waitrose Essentials range. I love the idea that posh people consider cheesey puffs as an essential dietary item, rather than a luxury or something. Classy. |
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| A day, another day |
[Sep. 2nd, 2009|12:17 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Minus one day | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Emmy The Great: Edward Is Dedward e.p. | ] |
Dear journal
Blimey, has it really been a fortnight? Well, that’s what a combination of getting home from work late (far too often) and having nothing of great interest to tell people about does to you. I was thinking the other day about how nice it would be to do some Friday Photos again soon; but then today I worked until gone 10pm, then when I got home I had ironing to do, then after cooking and washing up it’s now 12:15am. Doesn’t really leave you much time, does it?
Why are people dropping like flies at the moment? Bloody first aid, I've filled in three accident forms at work over the past fortnight. Not just your ordinary paper cuts and stuff either; on Friday afternoon it was a man suffering an epilepsy-type fit due to a hypoglycaemic reaction, then back in to work today for a woman who collapsed when her eyesight went all blurry and she couldn't feel her legs. At this rate I'll be on first name terms with all the local ambulance drivers shortly; and not a swine flu to be seen amongst the lot of them.
However, some things of peripheral interest have happened, I’m sure; hmmm... I nearly booked tickets to go to our away game in the Euroshit Cup to a place called Sofia (presumably named after a girl that somebody fancied once), which is in a country called Bulgaria (presumably named after a womble). £220 on Expedia.co.uk including two nights in a four star hotel overlooking the stadium, and flights at earthly times to and from London City Airport. But then everybody else pulled out, deciding that they’d rather go to Basle in December instead. Pah. Damn you all.
Still, it’s not all been bad; during the time when I would have been researching hotels and making bookings last night, instead I managed to sew up some trousers. Also I went on a nice picnic yesterday afternoon with The Lovely S and some friends, on which we were joined by wicker_girl who thankfully doesn’t sound northern yet. Apparently martinv lives nearby as well, but we didn’t see him because he had a hangover. Went to see Darren Hayman last Friday night, but as it’s basically impossible to enjoy anything in the Buffalo Bar (unless you are the only person present, and are seven feet tall, and like only drinking small bottles of beer for £3 each, and don’t actually need to breathe air) you can probably conclude that it didn’t qualify as one of his more enjoyable shows.
Can’t remember much of excitement which happened before that, maybe I need to get our more. I haven’t seen the new Almodovar film yet, so I suppose that would be a start. Drugstore are playing next Monday, one of my “top ten bands you most want to reform in the world ever” as it happens. Can’t believe there are still tickets available, what on earth are you all doing that night?
It’s not too late, you know. If you would like to come to Sofia with me during the week after next, then just leave a comment of up to twenty words beginning with the phrase I love Fulham FC because... |
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| Caravan Of Love / I Am Sailing / Fear Of Drowning |
[Aug. 17th, 2009|10:07 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Nicely shattered | ] |
| [ | music |
| | BSP on random play | ] |
Hello, I'm back. From a marvellous holiday in Wales, with The Lovely S, her Mum and Dad and the excellent Tall S who joined us for much of the week as well. All bundled up in a caravan with hugely competitive scrabble games, loads of booze and Match Of The Day on Saturday night. I may not be the world's most experienced patron of holidays; but take it from me, it was a very good result.
In a burst of massive fun, I also did lots of sailing; in a proper boat, with sails and leaning over a bit (careful, don't fall in) as we swished through the water past seals and cormorants. Jib! Starboard! Firm up! Spinnaker! Basically I was Rod Stewart, only without the live performance “whites only” gig in Sun City during the height of apartheid, or the tartan. Also some nice walks, a bit of paddling, some 10k runs on the beach and I even ate carrots. A truly legendary week.
Shortly after returning home on Sunday evening I saw the immensely good but far from fashionable band The Tamborines on the platform at Shepherd's Bush Market station. I was tempted to go up and permit them the joy of being recognised that all small bands (who usually only play to about twelve people) presumably revel in (as all fans assume). But then it dawned on me that if somebody approached me in the very same station and said “You're a librarian!” or something I would probably think they were some kind of a mental fruitcake person; so instead I moderated my behaviour accordingly, and just stared at them when they weren't looking instead.
And of course I went to see British Sea Power play last night, at the Regent's Park Open Air Theatre. There's no need whatsoever for me to suggest how eventful it was, because if you can't guess then you're probably not someone who would understand anyway. As I learned from my teenage years two decades ago, there will always be people who just don't understand you. Anyway, it was up there with The Broken Family Band at The Scala as the best of the year so far. The bear was on top form as well.
And then I left work two hours late tonight (due to, er, lots of work) and then went to the gym. So now I'm knackered.
Hope you're all well.
p.s. The Smallest Church In Sussex, The Land Beyond, Lights Out For Darker Skies, Canvey Island, Remember Me, The Spirit Of St Louis, Please Stand Up, Atom, True Adventures, Men Together Today, Apologies To Insect Life, No Lucifer, Down On The Ground, Waving Flags, The Great Skua, A Wooden Horse, Childhood Memories, Carrion, All In It, Rock In A. |
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| Camra Obscura |
[Aug. 7th, 2009|07:39 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Tired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Bill Callahan: Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle | ] |
I went to the “Great” British Beer Festival yesterday. It's organised by some people called CAMRA, a group which campaigns for the removal of seats from all pubs, so that you can properly enjoy your drinks and pub food by having to stand continuously for several hours (I think their name is an acronym for something like Campaign Against Men with Relaxed Attitudes or something). Women are fiercely deterred from joining by the wide range of ugly misogynistic t-shirts on sale, and I guess the racist ones on offer also gave a further insight into their target membership. I won't be joining this club in a hurry.
However, there was fun and nice beer to be had despite the uncomfortable surroundings. And a wide selection of quite nasty beers as well... The tasting notes which Johnny F and myself made are listed below:
Andechs Weissbier Hefetrub (9/10) Peaked too early?
Bernard Cerne Pivo (7/10) Bad start, good progress.
Braustelle (alt) Unfiltered (8/10) Chocolatey, coffeetey, yum.
Fox Grizzly Beer (6/10) It's alright.
Girardin Lambiek (2½ /10) Whoever gave this a high score on the website needs their head examined.
Gukpener Korenwolf (8/10) It's nice.
Iceni Rasperry Wheat (6½ /10) Not raspberry, not wheat.
Josef Greif Weisse (7½ /10) Pleasant, yes pleasant.
North Cotswold Vanilla Bumble Beer (5½ /10) Didn't really see any vanilla in there either.
St Austell Black Prince (9½ /10) Rather nice, special sweetness.
Yates (Cumbria) Fever Pitch (5/10) Flowery, but nothingy.
Can't hang around for long tonight, as I'm off to a pop concert this evening. It's actually free to see The Vichy Government play in Kilburn tonight, but as it's still a real gig I think I might just inwardly pretend that I'm on the guest list or something as I amble in without expending any admission fee. Onstage at 10pm, so I'm just doing a little bit of laundry before I go.
And then tomorrow I'm off on holiday! Hooray! Back up to North Wales for a week, where The Lovely S will be picking me up from Bangor station tomorrow afternoon. We have broadband in the caravan, so you might possibly see me popping up from time to time on Young Persons' Facebook and the like. Back in time to see British Sea Power play at the Open Air Theatre in Regent's Park on 16th August though, so don't worry.
Oh dear, and then it will be my birthday shortly after I get back. I'm afraid there will be no big social event this year, as Fulham have a home match in the Euroshit Cup that evening against FC Amkar Perm. However, if through some strange twist you would actually like to come to the match then let me know, and I will happily secure you a ticket.
Anyway, on with the laundry. Have a nice weekend. |
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| Yours in a maximum of 140 characters... |
[Aug. 4th, 2009|11:46 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Twitteresque | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Vichy Government on MySpace | ] |
Bloody swine flu. Three of my staff are off. Now have to go in during my “day off” on Thursday morning.
How dare “thelondonpaper” describe our Europa Cup tie last week at Vetra as a pre-season friendly? Fuckers.
I miss my girlfriend. She's in Wales. I'll be joining her on Saturday.
Anyone coming to see The Vichy Government on Friday?
Anyone coming to see Fulham v FK Vetra on Thursday?
Anyone coming to work tomorrow?
I chuckle at how Waitrose “special offers” boast that tariffs have been reduced to the regular price at other supermarkets.
Cous cous with quorn pie, crushed mushrooms, spring onions, processed peas, chilli and garlic. Yum.
Moon was quite disappointing. A potentially intelligent film blatantly made for an unintelligent audience.
GBBF on Thursday afternoon? See you there. Nice beers only. Yes!
I've said it before, but listen to The Wave Pictures. You'd like them.
Now that it's all memory sticks, I wonder whether blank CDs will go the same way as blank tapes?
Why don't pommes noisettes exist these days? Food from the eighties was underrated.
I notice that since Michael Jackson died, nobody seems to be demonising Gary Glitter any more.
The Richmond Filmhouse isn't called Richmond Filmhouse any more.
Lars Von Trier is so obsessed with shocking people these days that he's allowing the quality control in his films to slip in the process.
That last one would just fit on Twitter.
Who needs fucking Twitter anyway?
Tweet tweet. |
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| A single-topic post about football |
[Jul. 30th, 2009|07:50 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Bah | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Radio Bah | ] |
So, FK Vetra v Fulham this evening. I am now becoming increasingly sad that I'm not currently in Lithuania.
It now seems evident that there will no coverage of the game on any form of what might be described as television (in even the loosest sense). As a double punch in the face, I have a work event tonight at the Holborn Wetherspoons with free drinks all night. After a brief chat with our chief executive (who is my friend on Young Persons' Facebook), he agreed to instruct the pub that as part of our booking we would require then to show the Vetra v Fulham game on their screens (he's actually a Chelsea fan, so an unusually kind act on his part).
So all set then? Wetherspoons! Free drinks! Fulham live in the Euroshit Cup! Nope, all scuppered by the television scum who would rather show Britain's Funniest Weathermaps or something instead. Hmmm.
Admission to the match costs just £5. The official Fulham travel package (which also included a full day in Lithuania yesterday) cost £199. In perspective, I paid £241 for travel and admission to a pop music festival in Minehead earlier this year, which was rubbish.
It also looks like about the safest place in Europe to watch a football match. I've been viewing footage of Legia Warsaw fans rioting there in 2007; as the police and home fans (perhaps sensibly) did nothing. If the police don't even react when people are smashing up the ground, then I suspect that the chances of them coming up to innocent fans who are sitting watching the football and violently beating them with weapons (like they do in Italy) seems terminally unlikely.
The one consolation is that we do seem likely to get through. Bill Hill have us at 2/5 to win the away leg, and Ladbrokes place us at 4/11. Let's just hope that we make it through and get a decent trip next time then. Shame that Bill couldn't get the kick-off time right on the coupon though. It's neither 7pm in our time or theirs, Bill!
Apparently ITV4 will be screening the home leg next week. Yeah cheers; I'll be at the match actually, as Fulham are only charging a fiver to get in as well.
Er, end of rant. But I'm still sad. Bah. |
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| Indietracks |
[Jul. 27th, 2009|06:38 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Indie | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Art Brut: Art Brut vs. Satan | ] |
I'm not exaggerating, that was exceptional. You should have gone to Indietracks. There's no debate at all, you simply should have been there. You missed out; and consequently, you lost. Any vanishing of faith in indie festivals which I previously experienced after the horrible ATP rip-off earlier this year has been cured; festivals can be successfully designed with the simple intention of Young People Nowadays having fun, and that was truly, immensely, a great weekend.
Some high points... Repeatedly bumping into excellent indie friends, Emmy The Great (my word, the songs that young woman has), spirited fun at the How Does It Feel disco (which actually got even better every time the equipment overheated and the music stopped), the best bunch of people ever gathered together in the same place at the same time, fantastic indie music, the unadulterated joy on the face of the singer from The Understudies when he told me that they'd actually sold out of their CDs (he kindly offered to send me one), the funny bus thing which drove people up the road from the campsite to the stages (ATP would have charged you for that, plus probably a booking fee I suspect), the best performance ever from Art Brut, amazing vegetarian food NOT at festival prices, brilliance from Butcher Boy and The Smittens and many others, going camping with my girlfriend, nice beers (at ordinary pub prices) in an old railway carriage used as a bar, free steam train rides, BMX Bandits and Teenage Fanclub, an all-time festival first of not encountering a single wanker all weekend, MJ Hibbett suggesting to somebody in the toilets that he should Twitter the fact that he was having a wee, etc. etc. etc...
Hmmm, low points are hard to come by... Er, the death of my camera I suppose (or the battery more specifically), not being able to see MJ Hibbett play live on the steam train because it was too popular to get in, ditto Gordon McIntyre because someone thought it would be a good idea to put him on in the tiny Church Stage, some poor Spanish band playing to about fifty people at the outdoor stage because of the brief downpour at the time (we watched from the signal box – superb view!). I'm really struggling for low points though. And there are probably about a hundred more high points which I could list if we were going to be here all night.
In other news, you know how they used to make things so much better than they do nowadays? Well, my 1985 rucksack (which I used to use in the scouts) served me very well for this trip. East Midlands Trains may be a bunch of shitemongering shysters nowadays (where has all the luggage space gone on trains now? Hello? One poncey rack at the end of the carriage is a nice start, but where are the other seventy-seven people supposed to put their baggage?) but at least old school rucksacks don't let you down.
Hope you're all well, anyway. |
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| Friday Photos |
[Jul. 24th, 2009|09:48 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Excited | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Indietracks volume 2 | ] |
Haha! I'm not going to work today! No way, screw that. Instead I'm heading off to the Indietracks festival with The Lovely S; where we shall be watching nice bands in the company of such lovely people as strange_idol, duchess80, what_she_wrote, beattiedee, ruudboy and fox_in_snow. I am in little doubt that it will be excellent.
However, I couldn't possibly leave you without sharing a few Friday Photos before I go, could I? What with getting this new computer up and running and stuff it's been long overdue, so I think I'll share a few snaps from last weekend as I depart.
The high point of last weekend was, of course, Fun Day. During every long, hot and empty summer I attempt to fill the football-free void with a nice day out, to cheer up all of the footy kids during the misery period (a.k.a. the close season). For this year's Fun Day we visited the Museum of Steam in Kew for a selection of japes and capers, before a nice walk along the river and a little drink afterwards.
Are you sitting comfortably? Then please, dear reader, join me in a mild dose of fun...
( Fun Day! Hooray! )
Have an indie weekend! |
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| You have to laugh... |
[Jul. 22nd, 2009|12:49 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Banging head on things | ] |
| [ | music |
| | No, work actually | ] |
Hello, I’m at work. But work is fucking me off so much today that I’ve decided to write an update instead. So, er, hello world.
Thankfully, elsewhere in life there are comedy moments to remedy this. Shortly after arriving at work this morning I managed to spill book repair glue on my trousers; I’m not going to attempt to describe what it looks like, only to reveal that it looks every bit as bad as it possibly could.
I also discovered today that train drivers on the East Midlands Railway are trying to stop me getting to Indietracks, by declaring a strike at short notice on both the day we’re travelling up there and the day of return; apparently the 3% pay rise offered (which would bring their average salary up to £38,500 per year) was not enough for them. I wish I earned £38,500 per year; in which case I could probably afford to go to Indietracks by taxi or something.
Let’s get back to hilarious things though, shall we... Have you seen the “short” list for this year’s Mercury Comedy Music Prize? I mean, each to his own and all that, but you have to admit that it’s fucking hilarious. Hmmm, who do you think will win this time? The Scottish Oasis? The female Damien Rice? The feeble attempted eighties band who used to make me turn my radio off every morning? The worst support band I’ve seen so far this year? They forgot to put Keith Allen's daughter on it though; tssk, what an oversight.
I sent an e-mail to the head of our Student Records Office yesterday about miscreant students who are having their exam results withheld because they have not returned their library books, locker keys, paid their fees etc. She replied telling me that she’d just had to go onto Google to look up what “Miscreants” meant. Priceless.
I went to see the Harry Potter sequal last night; except I found out that in fact there have been loads of these films, but nobody ever told me. There was a funny bit where it went all Jason and the Argonauts for a moment, but then I realised that I was the only person in the cinema laughing so perhaps it wasn’t supposed to be comical after all. Ah well; the film outstayed its welcome by about an hour, and I didn’t get home home until 1am (due to the fact that Waterloo is a peculiarly inconvenient place to get to/from despite its central geographical location). Serves me right then, perhaps.
At long last, I will actually have some Friday Photos up for you in a couple of days. Yes, really. Not to be confused with the pictures that I’ll be putting up on Young Persons’ Facebook this evening. These will be different ones. Honestly; it’s going to be a photo frenzy.
Wake up. Luke Haines is playing at the Borderline on Thursday 1 October. Sort yourself out.
Anyway, enough of this bitterness, back to work... |
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| In Bruges |
[Jul. 16th, 2009|10:53 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | On top (ish) | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Broken Family Band on random play | ] |
Wow, isn't it exciting – the draw for the Europa “League” (third qualifying round) tomorrow. Woo! Although if we get drawn away in the first leg then I won't be able to go, because of work. Pah. Sadly we can't play Club Brugge (due to the seeding system), but Austria Vienna are looking good after a 5-0 win in their first leg so I quite fancy that one instead.
Regrettably I'm strangely devoid of exciting things to tell you about at the moment. But let's make some token effort... I've started eating spring onions (which seem to be called “salad onions” these days in supermarket etiquette, for no explicable reason). The Lovely S has come over for the previous two nights; sadly partially as a result of feeling down after crappy days at work, but I love her very much and it was immensely nice to be close with her. And in other good news, I was starting to think that my window boxes might need watering if they didn't get need some rain and a little electricity soon, until the thunderstorm saved me the worry tonight. Special bonus credibility is on offer to the first person who recognises the second reference there.
Speaking of window things, I am starting to consolidate just how much I hate Windows Vista. When I have ticked the box saying “delete all deleted mail upon start-up” why do I still have 356 messages in my deleted folder? Why, when I have ticked the box saying “do not attempt to rip a CD ever” does it take the action, whenever I insert a CD, of attempting to... (well, I'm sure you get the picture). And just don't get me started on the “help” function... I love OpenOffice, by the way.
Happy birthday to Mark D this weekend. My very own partner in crime.
Thunder! Crash! Flash! Hope you're having a nice evening. |
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| I like to have a little dance |
[Jul. 10th, 2009|08:18 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Beginning to glow | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Radio Keaveny | ] |
I'd hoped to have some Friday Photos for you this week, but I'm afraid I just haven't had time to sort it all out. Oh, shame on me. Next Friday maybe.
Hmmm, why have I been so busy? I'm not sure, but I think that watching television might have had something to do with it. By 10pm this evening I will have watched an astonishing five programmes this week! Well, it's been a show called Touch Wood which is apparently something to do with Doctor Who, only without Doctor Who in it. It's been nice actually. In fact, I estimate that I'd be prepared to pay £10 for the five episodes, meaning that the BBC only owe me a £129.50 refund on their exorbitant licence fee so far this year.
So, what else have I been doing? Well, working late mostly (eleven hour days really take it out of you, don't they?). But in other idle moments I was watching The Strange Death Of Liberal England play a storming set, being given a card for 10% off drinks at The Lexington (in return for signing up for a mailing list which I'm already on), receiving a free CD single from a nice band called Revere, and being told by the lead singer of Drugstore that I'm “Getting too bloody clever for my own good” on Young Persons' Facebook. Oh, happy times.
Anyway, as I'm off to see that band that I like tomorrow, I just thought I'd leave you with this video clip. Living proof that the things which British Sea Power come up with when they're bored are more inspirational than what most bands manage to produce when they're feeling creative. Hope you enjoy it anyway. And have a nice weekend.
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| Come on feel the lemonheads |
[Jul. 6th, 2009|11:48 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Poptastic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Slow Club: Yeah So | ] |
Hello Livejournal, thanks for all of the kind and helpful responses to my previous post, which I appreciated very much. There have been hills and mountains since, but things have ended up OK. Well, I'd even go as far as saying good in fact.
Speaking of “even” (er...) here's a nice little story for you. Obviously, like any self-respecting person, I will be going to see British Sea Power on Saturday. They're playing at a weird place called “Outside London” (I've been there before, and in fact it's vast, as it includes Oxford and Leicester and Edinburgh and stuff). Anyway, as interesting as you are Mark, get on with the story please. Oh, of course, sorry.
Anyway, I will be meeting up with a very nice bloke that I used to know years and years ago and then became reacquainted with via Young Persons' Facebook very recently. We used to go and see bands like My Bloody Valentine and The Jesus And Mary Chain in the late eighties and the vastly better end of the nineties, so I was most comforted that he told me early on that he can't be doing with all of the rubbish indie around nowadays, and since Hefner split up the only band he's really been interested in are a group called British Sea Power. And of course, as he lives in Outside London, what better circumstance for a reunion? But that's not the point of this story actually; I just remember that he used to be an extremely big fan of The Lemonheads, and I found out today that his son is called Evan. Which I think is mildly amusing.
Let's roll with the pop music stuff, as it seems to be going OK so far... For anybody else entirely unmoved by the idea that Blur exist, some exceptionally exciting band reunion news... It turns out that a particularly good band from that sort of era are coming back. Well, believe it or not, Drugstore will be playing at Dingwalls on 8th September. Yes, it's really them. Blimey. If you're at a loose end that evening are are even remotely considering not attending this, then really you must be the sort of person that trepanning was invented for; and I strongly suggest that you do it with a rusty iron railing. p.s. Kitchens Of Distinction next please.
Anyway, yeah, pop music, Spearmint are playing at the end of September as well (thanks to weddingpresent for pop concert advisory skills). The Ballboy film was very enjoyable by the way, if a little unsettling. I wasn't so disturbed by the fact that you can see me in the audience about forty-five times, as the small but significant detail that I was apparently wearing exactly the same clothes on the evening that it was filmed as I was at the screening last night. People will be thinking that I've only got one t-shirt. Which is blatantly untrue, as I've got six British Sea Power ones as well. Oh yes, don't forget that The Strange Death Of Liberal England are playing on Wednesday.
Dear Play.com, when I place an advance order for a CD, this is because I would like to receive it and listen to it when it is released. Where, then, is my copy of the new Neil Hannon album The Duckworth Lewis Method, you bastards? Yours faithfully, Mark H.
That's enough pop music for today I think. See you soon. |
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| Holiday |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|06:36 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Sunburned | ] |
| [ | music |
| | A nice bit of Malcolm Middleton on the laptop | ] |
Proof that I am in Wales.
You don’t get these in London. |
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