TWO MINDS

An interview with myself (how self indulgent)

Me: How are you today?

You: I feel alright today. I quite like it when the weather is bad as it justifies me not leaving the house. I have to work and I have the day all planned out and it probably only involves leaving the house once. It's nice not having any people under the age of ten around, but there are short moments when I get a bit lonely, but you just fill that with work or entertainment.

Me: You make a point of talking about loneliness but you make a conscious decision not to go out at certain points. Why is that?

You: Well for a start, I do have a lot of work to do. I have to work hard if I want to get the job I want. It may be half term but it hasn't meant I'm free and easy. I'm used to living on my own so this is a period where I can actually do the things I want to, watch the TV I want to etc. I think if I did live on my own, which I will do soon, I will go out more. But of course the drinking will have to be curbed as the hangovers are getting much worse these days. 

Me: What do you like to drink?

You: When I'm out it's cider, preferably Strongbow. If I'm in it's red wine. I can and will drink white wine and lager but it's second choice. The problem is that I find it so tasty, red wine in particular. You are meant to enjoy it all in moderation but that's where the difficulty lies. If I was able to I'd only eat chocolate and crisps, or roast lamb, but it's just not possible.

Me: What would be the perfect meal then?

You: I think a roast lamb with the trimmings so to speak. The one I had at New Year's last year came pretty close to the mark.

Me: Speaking of favourites, let's do a few quick fire questions.

You: Ok

Me: Try not to think about it, just answer the first thing that comes into your head. Favourite film?

You: I watched Garden State again last night and it had the same effect on me as the first time I saw it, maybe even more so. But maybe I'm only saying that as it's so fresh in my mind. Spinal Tap or Fletch too.

Me: What makes the comedies so much longer lasting?

You: It isn't the films themselves, it's the quoting afterwards. The funniest time I watched Anchorman was with 4 friends. It took us about 2 hours to watch a 90 minute film because we were rewinding it so much.

Me: Favourite band/artist?

You: Ryan Adams. There's bits I'm not keen on but he's someone who really captured my imagination. Tool are a close second but there's only a small amount to draw from.

Me: What's your favourite Ryan Adams song then?

You: A very difficult question. A favourite moment was Crossed Out Name the last time I saw him live. I love I See Monsters and When The Stars Go Blue but the best song is probably Jacksonville Skyline.

OOH LA LA

By my absence you can work out it that it currently isn't awful. In fact it's pretty damn good.

The buoyancy of my current mood is encapsulated by the fact that I will now write a list of the things I currently love.

Playing the ukulele

Writing the George and Lynne blog

The new Green Day (sorry, I'm mainstream)

The Arctic Monkeys new look

The Wire season 2

Not hating school

The end to the Premier League season

Not being infatuated with someone I can't have

I'm sure rants will come soon. But not now. Again, let us bask in the good things for a short time.

WALK THIS WAY

School starts tomorrow. If it's the same as last time it will be 8 weeks of pain with a breakdown or two in there. I'm hoping it's not going to be like last time. So far it has been better.

I should be meticulously planning for the next week with 4 lessons to teach this week (as opposed the usual 14 I'll be doing normally) but as I'm doing nothing tomorrow, I've done very little so far.

After yesterday, I've re-ignited my crush on the uke. 5 chords learned and getting better by the day. I thank my practice partner and hope for many more to come.

Also, if school this time is anything like last time then posting will be at a maximum. 

British things that should be law:

- Tea at 4 on the dot, without fail. (This will be undoubtedly be included on why life should be like the 50s post I'm working on)

- Everyone should own a tweed jacket and a pair of brogues.

- Saying good morning to strangers if you are up early at the weekend and the street isn't that busy.

- Old men going for a half of mild either just before or just after the Sunday roast.

- Diplomacy (either that or saying exactly what you mean).

- All but one football match at 3pm on a Saturday.

- Summer slacks.

- A local butcher and baker.

- Getting a man in.

- A tabloid and a broadsheet on Sunday.

British things that should be outlawed

- Greggs the baker.

- Swearing in public.

- Most football supporters.

- The Enemy, The Courteeners and any other working class band who is trying to say that it's terrible up north (1. it's not 1960, and 2. The Beatles, who you're trying to be, sang about love)

- Hello magazine.

THE FUGITIVE

Lyle Lovett must be shitting himself.

UP, DOWN, X, X, O, L1, L2, RIGHT, START

Sometimes I think, can I just get someone to tell me what to do? Can I go online and get the cheat code for life? There's levels and end of level bosses I just can't get past in this life, but the walkthrough says that it's not impossible. It's all possible because I know what the controls are.

I'd love to have the cheat code for certain things in this life; the job interviews I have coming up (which aren't your average job interviews); how to act around the women you like; when and how to contact them. But I suppose the outcome won't result in any satisfaction. If the girls think you're texts are needy then they aren't for you and the interviews are only an hour of your life (plus all the preparation).

That is of course if the game you're playing ends up with the happy ending and the end credits. You could be playing a knock off and in that case it's best to cheat and buy a new game as quickly as possible. 

NEVER EVER BLOODY ANYTHING EVER

NEVER:

a) go into a pub with a flat roof

b) text someone when you want a reply

c) be friends with someone who describes themselves as mad (unless you work in a mental hospital, because it's likely they might be a god of some kind)

d) buy a book that is advertised on the tube (typical tagline - 'They thought it would never happen...')

e) take sartorial advice from a man with a single vented jacket

f) fall in love with someone you shouldn't

g) spend more than 24 hours without speaking to someone

h) take sweets from strangers

i) go back in time

THE MEMORY REMAINS

I am crap with names, I forget things unless I write them down and I can't really remember much before the age of ten, but for some reason there are certain tiny inconsequential memories that always pop up in my mind.

Andrew McCarron telling the French teacher that saying Tour D'Eiffel was stupid.

Me telling the new teacher that David Wells liked to be called Wellsy.

Chez wearing his t-shirt signed by Olympic hurdler Debbie Flintoff-King in McDonalds, although I can't remember who he was with.

A lot of my 'friends' throwing stones at me when I said I was ill and then I was sick ont he way to the car when my Mum came and picked me up.

People measuring me to decide whether or not I was in fact 5 feet tall (when I was 14. Please).

My sister smashing me in the face with a tennis racket (actually it's not difficult to forget that one).

Adam Scrivener crying because 'these are new trousers' that he got dirty. They were always new trousers.

Having to meet Adrian at Wendy Crescent because our mothers couldn't be bothered to drive the whole way.

We won't mention the consequential moments (first kiss, losing virginity, best gigs, first house etc). They won't go, and I know where to find them.

LACHRYMOLOGY

Today was a strange day. I won't go into the ins and outs of it, but because of people's reactions and emotions I asked myself the question: what makes you cry?

If you ask this to a number of different people, you'd get a number of different answers. Some people would say the music of Nick Drake, others the films of Richard Curtis. The last time I, for example, cried was watching the Say Anything trailer (found earlier here). Ask me the time before that, and a few times before that and you'd get the answer I'm looking for.

Basically, people cry because they don't like to think that they're not good enough. People usually cry when they are rejected by something or someone. I cried when I failed my driving test, football fans cry when their team is relegated and everyone cries if they are dumped by a partner. There's nothing worse than when someone is basically telling you "thanks for all the effort you've put in, but quite frankly it was a waste of time because this person is better."

Well let me tell you this. The people who make you cry are not better than you. They still shit themselves when they were 2, they still had to be taught to read, and they have cried themselves for exactly the same reason, because they weren't good enough. You are good enough, and to someone you're the best person in the world. So remember that next time you cry.

Of course if someone's died, you've got every right to cry and I can't explain that one.

HAPPINESS. WE'RE ALL IN IT TOGETHER

Jesus, what happened? Remember this moment in time - 18:15 on April 23rd 2009. I am 31 years old and right now I am happy. I feel a polish of contentment all over me. I want to phone the girls I like. I want to have ridiculous laughter conversations with my best friends. I want to put on the loudest music I have. I want to smile. I can smile. As dog is my witness, I will keep this for a week. A week.

It won't fucking last, but at least it exists.

P.S. Previous 'roid was not mine

SWEATING BULLETS

Dear Me,

I have bad days and you have good days. The bad days are usually a mixture of yesterday's alcohol and being on your own, the good days are usually a mixture of today's alcohol and being with people. It is probably the case the someone is thinking about you right now, or at least the idea of you. You may know that person, you may barely know that person, or you may not know that person at all.

Take it easy and go with the flow. You'll enjoy it better that way.

All the best

Me

ON THE ROCKS

At what point did it start to hurt this much? 

Now I'm not going to portray myself as some macho boozehound who can down ten pints of bitter at breakneck speed and drink you under the table, but I do have a propensity to drink a bit too much. With age, the tolerance goes up, so the amount goes up that is needed to achieve the same results (and what results are these? If I had an ounce of self confidence I wouldn't need sweet lady Bow), and this brings on the hangover and the pain. 

So this is it. I have to drink more but the after affects also increase. And is it worth it? Believe me, the next time someone buys me three small clear drinks on a Monday night (regardless of the occasion) I will cast my mind back to 2.30 this morning and remember how much fun that was, and then I will decline.

One day I'll stop, but not now. I've not got my bus pass quite yet.

LET YOUR FINGERS DO THE WALKING

The man sat in front of his typewriter. He stared at it with his hands by his sides. The blank page stared straight back at him, in some way mocking him for his apparent paralysis. He had put on his old soft cardigan, his old soft corduroy trousers and his old soft slippers. He had turned the off the record player, put the Dave Brubeck record back in its sleeve, and the sleeve back on the shelf. He had closed the window, shut the curtains and lit a candle, the only light, bar whatever soft sunlight that had made it through the sentry doors of the curtains. He had blocked out all outside noise, interference and distraction. But still he stared. No words came. No ideas. Nothing. By giving himself nothing, he had nothing, and by abstaining from influence he had suffocated his muse. 

But slowly he lifted his arms and set his fingers to the typewriter. He began to type, one letter and one finger at a time. He wrote one word, pulled the paper from the machine and placed it on the desk. He looked back at the paper and read the word to himself. 

Purpose.

THEY PULL ME BACK IN JERRY

Wow!

Much like in the previous missive we discussed (don't pretend you didn't discuss it) about people blowing your mind, or at least making you sit up straight and pay attention, music also does it as well.

Not music in general, but certain songs. You listen just to see what they sound like and then bang, you've got one song on repeat, all day. 

I love the way anything and everything can do this to us. It shows there's life left in you, not everything is dull and monotonous, you don't know everything. 

Is it that it hits you when you least expect it, or is that when it makes the most impact?

By the way, it's Silversun Pickups - Panic Switch

P.S. (again) I totally missed the opportunity to label the last one THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE WAY SHE MOVES ME, but maybe I didn't want gender attached to it.

I PICTURE YOU IN THE SUN

Attraction Part II

What do these people have that draw us to them? What makes us think like this? 

Let's face it, we've all been there. All fine and dandy in our little worlds when suddenly someone makes you question everything you've ever said or felt. Ken Barlow had it with Martha, Tom had is with Summer (probably), Ryan and Mandy, Edward Lewis and Vivian Ward, Patti Boyd and Eric Clapton. The list goes on. Eric never thought he would ever fall in love with his friend's wife, but he did. George was probably a bit miffed at the time but without Eric, he wouldn't have met Olivia. So there you go.

We can have our mind made up saying "I love him/her and no one will ever come close" and then, as Ryan said, it goes nuclear (When I saw her the Yankees lost to the Braves). It changes; maybe you're thinking of two people now when it was always one. At that point, go with your gut and not your Ross Geller pros and cons list.

It seems that as much as we hate it when the new fascinating person makes us question our lives, it might just be for the best. There is no 'One', but there's probably a handful and maybe you should until you get that before you make a decision. 

P.S. Talking of George, I know he swiped his melody of My Sweet Lord from The Chiffons, but the beginning of Godless by Dandy Warhols sounds remarkably like the beginning of My Sweet Lord too. But I doubt there's much money coming from them.

SIR ALAN NERDISON

Let's get one thing straight, I am a total nerd.

Not a nerd in the sense that I like maths, comics, prog rock and have a perspiration issue (I do have all of those but that's not the point); a nerd because because I have no idea how to act cool. 

I love music, but I can't play an instrument.

I love football, but I'm  a bit shit at it.

I love stories, but I can't write (although I haven't had this confirmed).

I love girls, but I have zero idea how to talk to them, let alone get them (or should that be the other way round?)

I think I love comics, but I rarely buy them.

I think I love books, but I only seem to read well known ones.

I think I love fashion and style, but I keep getting it totally wrong.

I think I love art house cinema, but a lot of it is quite boring.

I think I love hardcore, but I don't know that many bands.

The person who I think I am and try to give the impression I am is very very different to the person I actually am. I think I'm Jack Whitman but actually I'm Max Fischer.

And I'm fine with that.

SHITFIT

What the fuck is wrong with me? I've had two shitfits in the last two weeks, for the most ridiculous stupid things. Although I may be the most highly strung person I've ever met, I've always prided myself on being easy going on the outside so people don't see my inner issues. If you know these inner issues (or you read this claptrap) then count yourself very special. To me anyway, who knows what other people think of you.

Anyway, the problem is, I've had these freak outs in front of the one person I didn't want to be weird around. Firstly because she wouldn't lend me a book, and secondly because I got left behind when I was invited to lunch. For fuck's sake, normally I would have made a joke about it but instead I got really annoyed, like a child's temper tantrum. I'm sure the reason I've had these shitfits is to do with said person. Because I've been denied time with that person. 

So believe me, from this day forward, it's all being bottled up and coming out here. No more public outbursts, no more heart on my sleeve.

I consoled myself by buying a new coat. It's a spring/summer version of my winter coat but in navy. It adds to the Serge Gainsbourg/Paul McCartney look I'm trying to create. I want to wear it whilst listening to La Responsable by Jacques Dutronc (thanks James). In fact, that is now tied with Stranglehold as the music that plays in my head when I walk into a bar. Much like Hurricane plays when Wooderson walks into the Emporium.

('roids clockwise from top left: Paddy & Chez, obscured, at Ben's stag do when the camera spat out two photos; Mark and Joe showing that nobody fucks with the Jesus; Danielle in mid hair ruffle; me being calm)

BEING A BOY'S LIKE A SUCKING ON A LEMON

Thoughts:

Lil' Wayne has a lot of tattoos.

Six is a great album, no matter what you say. And that review was written on my 21st birthday. It's a sign.

Bob Loblaw having a law blog is possibly the funniest thing ever.

This lady may possibly be the most attractive and stylish person I have ever seen. 

I had more thoughts. I'm sure I was going to debunk a myth and say something profound. Maybe it will come to me later.

If life was like this, it would be amazing.

The only pureness left is preached to me by Marx.

THIS IS NOT A LOVE STORY

The internet is sucking out the romance from life.

The internet yields anonymity. If you're lonely and you want to rent a film, you now do it online. If you want to buy a book, you'll do it online, and even more so if you want to buy a book and you're cheap, you'll get it from Ebay or Amazon marketplace. So why do we even need to leave the house. There is now no reason to. You do it all online, and believe me I've done it all online.

By doing this you'll never meet the likeminded shy girl at the big blockbuster, or better yet the local video shop. The boy who reads like crazy but just got over a bad relationship. The girl who makes a funny quip about the album you're buying, not because she likes/dislikes (well not totally) your tastes but because she likes your face.

That's why all the records shops have closed down, because YOU don't want the hassle of going into town, because you don't want the cool rocksteady person behind the counter to snigger at you for buying the new Kings Of Leon album 6 months after it came out. Where the boy behind you is doing the same thing. You're both not that into music, but you are into the romantic notion of the independent record shop, the second hand book store, the market, the local bakers. 

Now I'm not saying the internet is the new television and getting Disposable Heroes of Hiphopritical by being a luddite saying that it feeds radiation (it doesn't) but we are missing some of the things we used to pride ourselves on. Humans communicate, connect and fall in love.

If you want to run through the pigeons in the park do it, because the girl/boy who went to the park to read Bukowski or Gore Vidal just might fall in love with you. Take off your earphones for one part of your journey. Smile at someone. Make their day, or let someone make yours. The next time you finish a book, go out and buy a tatty copy of something in a second hand book shop or a car boot fair. The one person who is thinking exactly the same thing as you, that you don't belong here, is looking for exactly the same thing. Romance.

I don't mean romance in a dinner and flowers way, more the romantic nature of life. The unknowing, the naivety, the unanswered questions. And if you are an internet dater, I have been, don't ask two many questions beforehand, before you meet. Meet, and ask the questions to their face. 

"I love the Smiths - to die by your side..."

or

"What are you looking for?" "The love of my life."

THIS FEAR'S GOT A HOLD ON ME

I don't know what I'm doing part 3

I am currently writing an essay. This essay is meant to be 5000 words long and include lots of quotes to back up anything you say. I went to a special lecture to tell me how to write an essay as I haven't written an essay in 12 years, and even then it was only 1500 economics shit, just rehashing what you've been taught. I suppose all essays are just rehashing what you've been taught.

Anyway, having spent 2 hours being told how to write academically, I still have no clue. I have no clue whether what I've written is right, makes sense or carries an argument. Granted, I haven't read it back yet, but I'm a little afraid to. Who knows what I wrote. I wasn't drunk, but I feel it be a little Kerouac in its form.

Should it really matter how you write? I know punctuation and grammar is very important, and yes I am one of those people who corrects other people's grammar and NEVER uses text speak in texts, but some of the best books I've read have very bad punctuation. Would A Million Little Pieces have been as popular if it wasn't written that way? Regardless of the content and the fabrication story afterwards, one of the selling points was the style. And Kerouac too, but I can't back that up with any evidence as I can't find my copy. On The Road is the only book I've ever read twice, apart from Dangleboots when I was 9 and The Killing Joke. I just saw The Crow Road which is first on the list to join that prestigious group.

I'd like to think that when/if I become a teacher, I will not be a stickler for punctuation and grammar when writing fiction. Content comes first; anything which is wrong can be fixed by your editor.

 

Other thoughts:

1. Yesterday I finally saw footage of White Lies. As I suspected they are a young Editors. All monochrome clothes but without the kitsch of the Hives. I like it. Nice Ian Curtis fringes. I bet the fuzz from their black jumpers doesn't end up their white shirts. Or maybe it does.

2. I bet Terry Richardson could get any model to take their top off. God knows what he says to them.

3. Does it mean something, or not?

BRIAN HOWARD CLOUGH

I got this from some random girl's fashion blog. I seem to be surfing for girl's blogs these days in order to find something new about the way girls think. 

What are you wearing now? Dennis the Menace type long sleeved tee, jeans and slippers. I wasn't too keen on my outfit today.

What’s the last thing you read/are currently reading? I am reading The Damned United by David Peace in an attempt to read it before seeing the film. I just finished The Wettest County In The World by Matt Bondurant last night. 

Do you nap a lot? Never, my teeth hurt if I sleep in the day.

Who was the last person you hugged? Edward. He started crying because I told him off. Far too precious that boy.

What’s your current obsession/addiction? Girls blogs, Tumblr, her, playing the two chords from Postcards From Italy on the ukulele.

Which item from your closet are you wearing most lately? The check shirts

What's for dinner? Sausages and tomatoes with balsamic

What was the last thing you bought? Lunch. Or The Damned United, new Beirut ep and Ryan Adams' Infinity Blues

What are you listening to right now? MCR, and not ashamed

If you could have any super power, what would it be? Mind reading, would be so useful

What is your favourite weather, and why? Sunny but not too hot. Shirt sleeve order.

What time do you usually get up? 7.06 on college days, earlier or later depending on workload

What is your most challenging goal right now? The essays and her

If you could have a house–totally paid for, fully furnished–anywhere in the world, where would you want it to be? Chicago or somewhere in France

Favourite vacation spot? NYC I suppose but I've done it for a while now.

What is your favorite item of clothing? Tweed jacket

Favorite pair of shoes you keep going back to over and over, even though your closet is overflowing with a zillion others: Winter: Big Black Boots / Summer: Tatty white cons - this is a silly question as I only have 6 pairs of shoes

Name one thing you cannot live without: The music of Ryan Adams

What time is bed time? Enough time to read before sleep before 12. 

If you could wake up anywhere tomorrow morning, where would it be? With her 

God I'm obsessed.

Questions:

When did Mary Kate become a hipster icon?

Is this essay any good?

Who will I see from college regularly?

What's the difference between Zooey Deschanel and Katy Perry?

Did Watchmen have some deep hidden meaning that I missed or was it just a story?

When will I write something interesting? In fact I might post my short story about the virtual funeral service. I just need to write it first.

LOOK AT THIS PHOTOGRAPH

Personally, I don't think I'm very photogenic. I'm not saying I'm hideously ugly, although I have thought I was pretty unattractive towards the opposite sex in the past, but I blame that on lack of confidence, lack of understanding of myself and lack of puberty, but it's difficult to take a photo of me where I look good unless it's a candid one of me looking pensive in black and white.

Exhibit A:

The top three are coloured and posed whereas in the bottom three they are monochrome (bar the middle one) and candid. This means one of two things; I can't smile well and I have terrible colouring.

What I'd really like is a photo session to produce 10 or so photos that make me look good. Or just a friend who takes good photos. Is that too much to ask?

I look at people's flickr and tumblr things and they've got all these great grainy or well lit photos of themselves. 

You probably think I'm so vain.....

BLOG VS BLOG

I'm no luddite. I've got a shiny MacBook, a blog, a tumblr account and a twitter account. But what for? Having been on all of these for a while, here are my thoughts.

Blog: The type of people who have blogs don't really care who reads them and they put what they want up. This is usually a mixture of words and pictures, it will account lives so it can be difficult or nice to read. People will give opinions on things such as music, films and fashion, or even their own lives.

Tumblr: Where do I start? Tumblr accounts are either a series of uplifting messages photographed in an arty way, snippets of song lyrics from bands like The Academy Is..., Boys Like Girls or some other soft emo band, or porn. There seems to be absolutely no restriction (bar the illegal) on what you can post on tumblr, even music which is odd given copyright is such a grey area on the internet.

Twitter: This gives people an inflated sense of self worth as they feel as though they are friends with celebrities as they can reply to their posts. The celebrities will rarely respond.

But who am I to talk. I have a blog no one reads, go on tumblr to look at uplifting messages and arty porn and go to twitter to see what Trent Reznor and Pete Wentz are saying. 

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE SO SAD?

I suppose you can tell my frame of mind when I'm referencing Ryan Adams lyrics in casual conversation. There was another band I quoted the other day, but I can't remember it.

1. When talking about someone's rocky relationship, I said, "What, what are the words they use when they know it's over? 'We need to talk' or 'I'm confused, maybe later you could come over.'"

2. When liking a girl from afar, I said, "I remember seeing you the other day but I don't remember saying goodbye. Alls I know is the sky went clear and babe I think I wanted to die."

The best line in that song is "For everyday of sun, I get a month of rain." 

SHE GAVE ME A PEN.....

A quick look at the papers.

Went to see Metallica and The Bronx this week. I always say after I see Metallica that it will be the last time I see Metallica. The show in September was a lot better to this one but probably only due to the seats we had. The show was great, but due to the sparsely populated area in front of us, the sound was a bit muddy. But they did play Turn The Page which I love.

The Bronx also wasn't quite as good as last time, again due to the last venue being tiny and this one being a bit bigger. The opening of Heart Attack American last time was so good - "You know what to do. I want the drinkers to drink, the moshers to moshers and the stage divers to get the fuck up!" But they play Six Days A Week this time.

Look, El Bronx. And hear how good Matt Caughthran's voice is....

I thought screamo was dead, but then I heard Chiodos.

Yes, I am home on a Friday night but a Friday without her isn't a night to be out right now. Two more Fridays to savour. However, I may be in danger of being ostracized soon. See below.

I love YOU, but I'm not that keen on YOU at the moment. 

I finally fucking finished The Count Of Monte Cristo. That's probably why I went out so much this week. Wait and Hope.

Couple of new blogs I like. One and two.

Thanks Mark for today. Quoting Dazed & Confused has never been so fun.

Spin has a question which is - What comes after Radiohead on your ipod? Although they changed it this month to what comes after The Shins on your ipod which isn't so accessible. A: Rage Against The Machine and The Shirelles respectively.

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK

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.

AND I CAN'T STOP SH SH SH SHAKING

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.

CLOAK AND DAGGER

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.

MY, WHAT A GOOD DAY FOR A WALK OUTSIDE

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.

I'M AN OG AND I BUST BACK

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.

WHERE'S THE MEDICATION I NEED?

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.

WILL YOU CONFUSE MY LOVE FOR THE COBWEBS?

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

IF YOU LOVE ME, WHY'D YOU LET ME GO?

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.

IF YOU'D ONLY, IF YOU'D ONLY SAY YES

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.

BURN

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.

SAY IT WITH VENNS

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

SOMETHING SOFT

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!"

AND YOUR RED SKY AT NIGHT WON'T FOLLOW ME

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.

LET'S GROW OLD TOGETHER

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.

IT'S IN YOUR EYES

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)

THREE DAY WEEK

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.

GET IT MORE LOUDER

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.

SNOW FALLING ON TARMAC

Attraction

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.