Saturday, February 28, 2009


Let's get things straight here. It's not that bad. You have good days and bad days, but as I might have said earlier, the good days just aren't that interesting, and also it's a bit more difficult to protect the innocent on the good days as names get bandied around.

The bad days are so much easier to write about. Everyone loves a tortured artist. The Verve on drugs - brilliant. The Verve without drugs - bad. Radiohead full of angst - brilliant. Radiohead loving their children - rubbish. Ryan Adams fucked up on drugs and in a pit of heartbreak - wonderful. Ryan Adams sober - a bit dull (sorry). And it's all about venting; you have to get it out when you're upset. When you're happy you want to savour it and keep it for yourself. 

Also if you tell people you're happy, they think you're smug. If you tell them you're depressed, there's a good chance they'll think you're edgy.

Thursday, February 26, 2009


I don't know what I'm doing Part 2

What am I doing? How do I get out of this ridiculous mess? What does one do? 

So far I've written, in that strange place where no one will see - and no not this site you cynical cow, a) what I will do when it all goes to seed, and b) why I am like this?

I honestly have no idea how to act. I know how I want to act but it's inappropriate and not acceptable because of the circumstances. I know what I want to say but as we've seen over the last few days it doesn't make anyone happy, and when it does it's only for a fleeting moment. But as I have said before, not to you but to you (not that you read this now we've moved on) that it's worth every second.

Lines that come to mind:

I wish you would
Come pick me up
Take me out
Fuck me up
Steal my records
Screw all my friends
Theyre all full of shit
With a smile on your face
And then do it again

And as he said "because it was so fucking worth it"

My life, up until this point and excuse me for not thinking about the starving Africans and the disabled children, has been a fucking chore. I think it was about 12 years ago that I realised I only needed one thing to make it all worthwhile. I haven't found that thing until now and it is now out of reach, not unlike the Holy Grail at the end of Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade. But maybe that's what it's like. It can give me everything, but only in that place. I can't take it out otherwise it will destroy everything. 

I need to get Come All You Weary tattooed across my chest.

Too much harrowing and not enough screwball comedy.

Sunday, February 22, 2009


What makes you stand out from the crowd? What gives you that edge over all the others? Do you want that edge?

I've got to apply for jobs and sell myself even though I don't think I'm very good yet. I'm no good at lying although it seems I've got to start doing it on a couple of things. So now I've got to start lying to a) further my career and b) protect myself. Let's look at these one by one.

a) I can't go all out lie and say I've done things I haven't but I can maybe embellish the truth a little by jazzing up my ordinary skills. I need to think hard about what I've done in order to fill out this form. But what have I done? Not fucking much.

b) I can go all out and lie because if I don't this whole thing could end. I think we both have the same feelings but it's difficult to show them in the current situation. And you, there's probably no need for you to look at this anymore because I can now say everything I want to you, but I'll still mention you because right now you are everything.

As JGW said the other day, quite harrowing and not enough comedy.

Saturday, February 21, 2009


It's a bit annoying that the lettering is inconsistent. Photoshop isn't everything it's cracked up to be. That's not a sneaky pun, it's a trial version.


Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. 

This explains ggg something gg gggg ggg gg gg ggg. gg one gggggg this to happen, but g ggggggg gggggg can gggg g ggg ggg things. It may not be ggg ggg (and let's gggg gg ggg gggg gggg not) but let this be g gggggg gg ggg ggg gg gg gggggggg gggg. It was gggg ggg ggg gg ggg I'm not a ggggggggg man, but I would gggg gg gggg gg ggggg ggg gg gg work out well.

gg, gg gg gg alright. Life gggg gggg. gg gggg, gg hasn't even started.  

Sincerely, little girl.

Night posting - never good.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009


1. This woman on the radio right now really isn't funny. Virgin (Absolute) Radio is on with Geoff Lloyd. I don't really like this radio station as it's really for the man in the van. Geoff Lloyd sounds like Chris Evans so it keep confusing me when I get home. Anyway, everyday about the time I have a cup of tea (a good part of my day), this woman, who I'm sure is only there to read the travel but somehow got her own slot, talks about a song and dissects the lyrics to show that the song is meaningless. It could be a funny idea as I remember being obnoxious once and picking holes in a joke someone was telling, and that got a good reaction, but her delivery is so crap. And Geoff Lloyd, if that is his real name, insists on laughing. How he can do it I don't know. He must be threatened with the sack everyday and then after his show he has one of those moments where you call up in a ball in the shower with all your clothes on just rocking back and forth. And don't get me started on Christian O'Connell these days.

2. I am stuck with my brother-in-laws parents, listening them to attempting to look after the kids. I'm not the perfect babysitter, but they don't really know what they are doing. Which is odd considering they had two children of their own. Maybe I'm just bitter because I've had to sleep on the sofa bed in the dining room for the last 3 days with the inconsiderate cats and a buzzing computer.

I may have felt better if I'd seen someone today. But I'll have to wait until tomorrow.

Monday, February 16, 2009


That's not the lamp saying that. It's George.

Sunday, February 15, 2009


One should never post twice in one day, but I have to share Garfield Minus Garfield - the inner struggle of Jon Arbuckle in his futile existence.

By removing Garfield from Garfield, we see the root of Jon's problems as a lonely single man in a suburb of misery. Talking to his cat is not the answer, he is just hiding what we all know.

A particular favourite:

I've been thinking of doing something similar for a while to the George and Lynne comics.


Singles. Jesus, there's a reason you're single.

The first thing that comes to mind that discos when you don't know anyone are exactly the same as when you are 11, except there's alcohol involved. No one knows what to say to each other, so they get drunk and think what they are doing is flirting. To some people it might be flirting, but if you're going to tweak someone's ear follow it up with a hello at least, and if you're going to steal someone's hat, please give it back because I want to go home.

Anyway, let's just say that last night was pretty badly organised. The door staff were rude and the music was too non-descript. Where's the chart cheese? Play I Kissed A Girl, The Fear or Sex On Fire if you want people to start snogging.

But I didn't like it. You just got stared at. Lots of people looking around to see who they fancied but not doing anything about it. We felt the tension in the room was just going to burst out and any minute it would just descend into an orgy. I believe that was my first and last valentine's singles do. They don't work, certainly not for me. Romance can't be forced, that's what makes it romantic. The movies may lie to us, but they are just an idealogy of what happens. It doesn't happen with great cinematography, but it does happen. Well, I like to think so.

Not me of course, there's no reason I'm single.

Saturday, February 14, 2009


Over the last 5 weeks, posting has been complete therapy. What do you do when you've chosen a new profession and it's not filling you with the joy that you expected it to, and the old profession that you gave up because you only wanted it as a hobby but it's still a sort of profession is filling you with as little joy? Well I vent, and this is the outlet to do it in. Believe me this is not it. If you delved inside the special black book then you'd see the 'ugly' side, but most of that is about people who've spoken to me at a urinal (heathens) and films I've seen.

I will vent when I can,or when I need to. Or just when I'm at the computer and I don't feel like working. Now I'm back in popular culture I may vent on what is going on in Mad Men, Chelsea's current predicament, what will Quentin Tarantino's new film like and what will the new Green Day album sound like. Not that subversive, but no one wants to hear me wallowing in self pity about the girl who blah blah. Always keep your diary hidden from your mother.

Until the next vent.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009


Some Venn Diagrams I did. I should really have put more time into it. Click on them to make them bigger.

Venn Diagram showing Hats, Desmond's characters and Food

Venn Diagram showing Places I've Been To The Toilet, Places Bears Have Been To The Toilet and Scary Places

Venn Diagram showing how much I like you

Monday, February 09, 2009


As I come to the end of my stint at school, I'll have to say that it wasn't as successful as I had hoped. My story writing has improved no end having written 3 Sci Fi stories and about 4 made up news articles. Below is the fruit of my imagination (although I owe a lot to Back To The Future). Picture by me and Neato - click on it for a bigger one, go on it's really good.

P.S. Never write about time travel; there are just too many plot holes. 

It was a lovely sunny Saturday so I decided to take a stroll to my scientist friend Dr Stump. I walked the long way so I could gaze over the city from the top of Trohman Hill. It was a wonderful sight to see all the modern buildings and I remarked to myself how well the city had advanced.

When I got to the Doc's house, he was busy at work on one of his many inventions. "What's that you're working on Doc?" I asked. "Oh hello there Mikey, I didn't see you come in. This is my most incredible invention yet." "Better than the talking toaster?" I asked, with a smirk on my face. The Doctor didn't get the joke and continued enthusiastically. "Oh much better, this is a time machine. It will be able to take you to any time in the history of Earth. The only problem is that it doesn't seem to be working". He continued to poke at it with a screwdriver. It was then that I noticed the problem. I bent down to pick up the plug which was attached to the base unit of the Doc's contraption. "It would help if you plugged it in Doc" I said as I pushed the plug into a nearby wall socket.

At that moment, everything seemed to stop. A brilliant white light flashed for what seemed like a lifetime. My body felt like it was pressing in on itself but I did not feel any pain. Then millions of colours sped before my eyes and before I knew it I was thrown into nothingness.

I opened my eyes to see the Doc looking back at me with the same startled look that I had. We both slowly turned around to see vast green fields all around us and rugged hills in the distance. There was no sound, just this ominous silence. "Where are we?" I asked. "Not where, but when," replied the Doc. "We've travelled back in time to the year 125 million BC." "I'm not sure I like it here. This land looks very unforgiving." It was then we heard a rumbling sound and an almighty roar. We turned and saw a rampaging dinosaur hurtling towards us. "Run!" screamed the Doc. We started running as fast as we could. The bloodthirsty dinosaur was getting closer. In the corner of my eye I saw an opening in a hill. "Quick," I shouted. "Into that cave." We changed direction and rushed into the cave. We were just in time. We ran in easily, but the massive dinosaur could not fit in and smashed its head on the top of the opening. He crashed to the ground dead. "That was lucky. Now let's go home."

When we got back to the time machine, the Doc set the co-ordinates for present day; the same bright lights flashed in front of us and soon we were away from the time of dinosaurs. We jumped back to the Doc's laboratory. "I think I need a lie down after that," said the Doc. I walked home, again via Trohman Hill. I wanted to look over the city I loved. When I go to the top, the city was not as I remembered. There were no modern buildings, in fact there were hardly any buildings at all and any that were there were dilapidated and falling down. People were running riot and the whole city seemed to be a war zone, a rotting piece of meat. I needed to see the Doc. On the way back, he pulled up beside me in his car, the time machine in the back. "Where are we now?" I asked. "The same place we've always been but a completely different present day. That dinosaur dying has caused a series of events that have completely changed the course of history," the Doc replied. "I can't live here, I want my old city back." The Doc thought hard. "There's one thing we can do," he said. "We need to go back and make sure that dinosaur doesn't die. Then everything should return to normal. We'll need something soft."

I wasn't sure what he meant by the last thing he said but it wasn't hard to find what he wanted. The streets were so run down and chaotic that every house had a rubbish heap outside it. We found an old mattress and held on tight to it as the Doc punched in the co-ordinates. Again, the bright white light flashed and we were standing in the fields surrounded by hills. In the distance we could see ourselves next to the time machine. Then we saw the dinosaur coming at us, I mean them. We turned again and saw that we were quite near the cave. "Quick, bring the mattress," cried the Doc. We go to the cave and quickly attached the mattress to the top of the opening. We hid behind the cave just as our other selves ran in and the dinosaur hit his head. Again, the dinosaur fell to the floor, but after a short while it stood up and shook its head and ran off towards the hills. We stayed hiding as we saw our other selves run back to their time machine and disappear. "I think we've done it," exclaimed the Doc. 'Let's go home." "I hope it's home," I whispered under my breath.

We moved the time machine so we would arrive back in the laboratory. The white light flashed and we were back in the laboratory and everything seemed normal. I looked out the window and the streets were clean and people were smiling. "Is this home?" I asked. The Doc nodded back, a small smile on his face. I walked over the the wall and pulled out the plug from the socket. "I don't want that going off again!"

Sunday, February 08, 2009


When I ever get round to writing my film, I know how it ends. I have no idea what it's about but I know how it ends. It's probably got some gritty Shane Meadows/Irvine Welsh thing going on from this ending.

For some reason, the main protagonist is packing a suitcase. Very systematically but with emotion. It's a suitcase like an old style valise; a proper suitcase, probably handed down through a couple of generations. I'm not sure if the person is a man or a woman, but I think they are quite young, early 20s. It is in black and white. The person is leaving because they have been stuck in this life without joy for a good few years. Either it's a bad marriage, or there's an abusive parent, or the person just doesn't fit in. I think that throughout the film the person has been threatening to leave but never quite has the courage to do so. Actually now I think of it this is probably similar to the end of Somers Town, but I haven't seen that yet.

Anyway, the person is packing and Cold Days From The Birdhouse by The Twilight Sad is playing. The person is emotional but not crying. It is strength that is showing. We see the person leave through the front door and walk down the street. The camera is stationary. The person walks away and turns left and out of shot just as we get to 2:30 in the song and the guitars kick in. The camera stays on the road for another minute. Then the screen fades to black and the credits roll. Everyone feels for the person and the courage it took just to walk away. Everyone stands up, applauds and I win a BAFTA.

Thursday, February 05, 2009


I was asked today what I really liked doing, among other things. I said listening to music and playing football. I really do like listening to music. I'm actually listening to music right now, hence the title of this missive. I like music, football, friends, family, reading and film. I'm also a little into pop culture and art but not enough to talk about it with any confidence, but let's not get started on confidence again.

So here's another small dip into the world of my iPod. I initially wanted my iPod to be Hughesie FM, playing only the best cuts from my record collection. As time has gone on, I find it more difficult to find time to sit down and listen to albums. In the good old days, I got an album and listened to it religiously for a week, and then onto the next one, now I get 5 or 6 at a time. Occasionally, I get an album I've been after for ages (and I haven't nabbed it from the interweb) and I give it a really good listen. The last of these was the recent Fall Out Boy and Snow Patrol. Again not very fashionable, but before that it was The Bronx and Wintersleep, so fuck you. So what I do now is stick full albums on the pod, listen on album shuffle and then systematically take tracks off that don't grab me. I'm obviously not giving these songs as much time as I would have done in times gone by, but these songs need to prove their worth. They're sharing the stage with Postcards From Italy, Little Arithmetics, 1979, Lateralus, Eleanor Rigby and Born To Be Wild.

So here we go, song shuffle, press play, no skipping and let's look at 5 of the 9427 on there.

1. Oasis - My Sister Lover
Ah the halcyon days of Oasis. Yes, even in the Be Here Now era they were putting out singles which had B-sides worthy of inclusion on an album. This one, from the Stand By Me single (their worst single in my opinion) isn't the best B-side though, and it's probably more likely on the pod because I decided to sell my post What's the Story singles on ebay. And I got a tidy sum too. I think I sold them for £10 for 6 to a guy in Argentina, so I got work to pay for the £12 postage. This song is a stomper, much like the new album, and sung by Liam, which is rare for a B-side. Many people will say that The Masterplan was the best B-side was either Stay Young or Underneath The Sky. But listening to it now, it's pretty good.

2. A Camp - Love Has Left The Room
Case in point. I added the A Camp (her from the Cardigans) album just the other day. I've already taken off two songs that I heard on the tube this week but I think I'll keep this one. I wouldn't normally have added this album but I remember liking I Can Buy You. Wasn't there a rumour that Nina Persson was gay? Or did my friends just make it up? Well it turns out she isn't. I did enjoy the My Favourite Game video. Jonas Akerlund promised so much from his music videos, and then he made Spun, which was rubbish apart from the Zwan cover of Number Of The Beast.

3. A - If It Ain't Broke, Fix It Anyway
This reminds me of house sitting my sister's place when they went to Mexico about 7 years ago. I listened to this album, Tom McRae and the first Slipknot album that week. My brother-in-law was good friends with A, doing their website and being thanked in all the albums. Unfortunately A went the way of all quite good British rock bands, and that's down. They plugged at it over 4 albums but never really got anywhere, getting larger and having children along the way. Jason and Dan wrote a McFly album though. I also remember holding hands with Jason Perry at a party of my sister's while we soft rocked it out to REO Speedwagon's 'I Just Want To Keep On Loving You'.

4. Dear & The Headlights - Sweet Talk
An album bought on the strength of Run In The Front, which is truly majestic. The rest of the album really doesn't match up to the heights of that song. Sweet Talk had a video and the singer wears a nice jacket in it, but it's not the best song. I almost felt I needed to justify buying the album by putting on more songs from it, whereas in reality the best song is the one I got from the website. There may be another album out now but I haven't investigated. And finally....

5. The Turtles - Happy Together
Now this is just all about Dylan's wedding. For some reason Benny, Reilly, Macca and I would break into this for no reason. Looking back it's quite heart warming that 4 grown men would sing about being happy together when we were sharing sofa beds in what was quite frankly the hottest house in the world. I also remember Weezer covering it live and I thought it was a Beach Boys song.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009


For someone who's meant to be run off his feet, I'm writing here far too much. Sometimes I don't even have an idea of what I'm going to write, or I think of one word and then go off on some tangent. 

So I am run off my feet. The snow meant that I had some respite and I could actually relax. So yesterday I read (still reading The Count Of Monte Cristo - at the current rate I'll be done by mid March. It's the longest book I've ever read and some chapters are really quite cumbersome as you don't know why you need to know this. Believe me the next book will be a breeze) and watched a film (it was The Orphanage). Last year I watched 68 films that I hadn't seen before. So far this year I've seen 3.

This really is rather a dull post. The problem is I had a relatively good day. When I have a bad day I can talk about my insecurities, my pathetic love life, my low confidence and my inability to find the one special thing that everyone should have. When I have a good day I have little to say. Is that because I think that art goes hand in hand with misery? Perhaps.

I always wanted to be one of those tortured artists who felt so much guilt and pain, but I never had a problem getting to sleep. At this moment in time I do have problems sleeping. So I cleared that one up. All I need to do now is write a bleak album and have a nervous breakdown. Oh wait I think I did one of those the other week.

And I say relatively good day. No one told me they loved me, or vice versa, I didn't discover a new band, I didn't buy that one great pair of shoes and I didn't have anyone stare at me in a 'I find you attractive' way. A good day doesn't really exist. It's too long. Let us live for moments. That way we're more likely to experience them.

Having a good moment and nothing else would constitute a good day. It's that moment which we'll remember the most.

(I was wrong, Alfie said he loved me - that'll do for today)

Tuesday, February 03, 2009


Letterman performances are usually ok. The Bon Iver one recently showed how Skinny Love is done live but didn't really show it all, and Ryan is usually pretty good. The Gaslight Anthem on the other hand were great. This is a great Letterman performance. Dave is usually very grateful to all his musical guests but I feel he meant it at the end of this one.

Monday, February 02, 2009


Sorry for the profanity, but I fucking love Edward Hopper.

Every picture he's painted has this romantic sense of loneliness. The woman in her hat in the coffee shop in in Automat; the man thinking about his life with a semi-clad woman lying next to him with a book open in Excursion Into Philosophy; the woman reading the note in Hotel Room. Even in the ones where there are two people you can tell that things aren't right. There's an overwhelming sense of boredom and monotony in Chop Suey, Summer Evening and even Nighthawks. Much has been written about Nighthawks. I love it obviously, but there's deeper meaning in other paintings.

Take Excursion In Philosophy. Whose house is it? Is it either of their houses? Has he just slept with a prostitute and is now wracked with guilt, with her on the other hand oblivious as it's all in a days work? Has he just read an amazing passage in the book which is making him question his life? Even on a summer's day with a beautiful woman next to him, he is not happy. His life has not turned out how he wanted it to. He is about to leave before she wakes up. He has dressed, open the windows and read from his book all before she wakes. The feeling you have after a one night stand is not dissimilar. If only I had had a book with me.

The overall feeling I get from Hopper is that no matter who is in the pictures, you feel their solitude and you want to take them away from the hurt; show them something different and better. But can you? After all, your different and better could just be another exercise in loneliness for these characters.

Sunday, February 01, 2009



In general, an attraction draws one object towards another one. So says wikipedia.

Attraction leads to friendships and romantic relationships. Attraction is very difficult to combat. Let's face it, you can't help who you are attracted to. In fact, it can be the bane of your life. Not that I'm saying I have an uncontrollable attraction to bald women or animals.

Talking to a friend, we were discussing our current attractions. His was between three, mine is one and one only. I told him that he couldn't decide who to pursue, it will tell him. Mine on the other hand is equally as difficult but completely different.

Of course you get attracted to a number of people, but it's the ones who are close to you that make the difference. I mean, I'm attracted to Cat Power and Joan Holloway, but that can never happen; one is the pseudonym of an american singer and the other is a fictional character.

And how can you measure the attraction. In an ideal world you could have some sort of barometer which could tell you whether the person worth thinking about every single day. At the moment I think it is, but only time will tell. There's a lot of waiting to be done.

I hope I can photo her with my Polaroid before the film disintegrates.