GATHERED ROUND A GREASE MONKEY FROM ACTON

The perils of being single. Well not the perils exactly, but the pitfalls of being the only 'bachelor' amongst my close friends. Coincidentally all of whose names start with A. Mystical.

The options for going out are slowly diminishing. Others are drifting towards a world of dinner parties, Heals and quiet weekends.

So what to do. The amount of single friends in my life is now so small that I might need new friends. But that would be rude. And no one has parties anymore. They're buying houses, but there are a lack of house warmings. Damn you all to Hades.

Some people seem to find it easier to flit in and out of relationships. But it's fucking hard. I am, in my own humble opinion, quite cool, not bad looking and pretty funny. But I am a complete amateur when it comes to dating, as the Americans say. Let us take the examples of the last two; both in limbo, although I think one has run. I had two great dates with Miss A and the second ended in an amorous clinch. I foolishly rushed to organmise the third date, a day date. Although it wasn't a horror, it certainly wasn't as good as the previous two. Got a bit nervous you see and clammed up. So since then Miss A has been decidedly frosty. I think she has now gone the way of being distant in relation to correspondence with an aim to severing contact. Shame, she was great.

Miss B, I have seen twice with no amorous clinches. The correspondence is thick and warm, without any real sign of flirtatious advancement. Maybe she will change her views. Third time's the charm I hear. She's also great.

But apart from that, the avenues are non existent.

A glossary of terms can be found in most good bookshops.

The head will be cleared after the holiday.

YOU'RE AN EXPLOSION, YOU'RE DYNAMITE

Things we have learnt this week:

Marco Materazzi has an awful lot of tattoos.
Zidane loves his mother.
Christian metal bands love God.

Now, as much as Zizou's violent explosion is unforgiveable on the football field, it's fitting that one of the world's greatest ever players is a hot head and has some shame to his game. It wouldn't be the same if he was all goody two shoes. All great players have fucked up royally in the past.

Let's look at the evidence (some might be a bit scratchy, but I'm doing this by memory)

Diego Maradona - Cocaine snorting, air gun firing midget. Che Guevara tattoo, badly dyed blond streak in hair.
George Best - Wife beating alcoholic mysoginist RIP.
Eric Cantona - Kung Fu kick.
Pele - complete lack of knowledge of the game in his old age, erection problems.

No one gives a shit about Bobby Charlton and the like because they were too nice. So, well done Zizou for joining the elite.



Favourite songs in the world right now:

1. Made-up Love Song #43 - Guillemots
2. Worth Dying For - Rise Against
3. We're Not Alone - Peeping Tom
4. Knights Of Cydonia - Muse
5. Young Folks - Peter, Bjorn & John
6. Writing On The Walls - Underoath

PISS ON MY BLACK KETTLE

Blindness. Not in the sense of not seeing, but not knowing. Is beauty only skin deep?

I've been signed up to large breasted aesthetics expert Sarah Beeney's dating website. Someone has mailed me. I don't have a photo up there, nor does she. When I get a photo up, she'll have to. But what do you say if the face is not to my taste. I don't need anew friend, and this is a 'dating' site. Can I be blunt? Should I lie?

Pearl Jam last night. There must have been a forgery problem as tickets were being checked and double checked. Some guy had spent £160 on a fake ticket and was abit miffed to say the least. Oh well. Awesome gig though.

I'M NOT DRINKING MERLOT

I must post more often. You only get one chance to do things so putting things off is wrong. It doesn't matter if no one reads. I just want to leave a record.


RIP MARTIN GILKS

I WILL DENY YOU BABY

I have so far received the David Hasslehoff valentines email twice. I expect at least one more before the end of the day.

Posting has been slow, due to excessive workload and spending most of my spare time at work trying to sell stuff on eBay. In short, football has been good and I've seen Thrice, Coheed & Cambria, Be Your own Pet and Mew. Be Your Own Pet were the best and their album is great too.

Things I have learned from selling things on eBay:
1. The things you think will sell will probably not.
2. The first release of Radiohead's Creep on CD is currently worth £16 at auction price.
3. People know more about eBay than me.

Everyone's asking questions and there's sometimes a mass of bidding 10 minutes before the end. Alien to me.

Tonight I will be watching my friend do Stand up comedy. With his girlfriend. A nice way for her to spend Valentine's day.

Current favourite songs:

The All-American Rejects - Move Along
Josh Rouse - It Looks Like Love
Idiot Pilot - Les Lumieres
65 Days Of Static - Radio Protector

WHEN I SAY SHOTGUN YOU SAY WEDDING

Friday night was spent at the Astoria seeing Panic! At The Disco and The Academy Is...

Then for some reason we ended up in the dressing room with the bands, drinking their rider, and then someone brought in champagne, so that was quaffed. I was then told off for going into Panic!'s dressing room when they were having a meeting and I had a conversation with Academy's drummer (Andy) about Night Nurse whilst standing on a sofa.

Then a small goose chase ensued to go to the aftershow where I tried to teach two american girls to say 'Fish Fingers' in an english accent.

Oh, and both bands were awesome. Panic! At The Disco will be big.

If I took my camera, I could have taken a photo. so above is a random shot.

48 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT

It took until 5pm Christmas Day before I wanted to go home. But I had to wait 40 hours for my wish to come true.

New Year's Eve provided us with Chester's fantastic home made soup. Morgo helped, but it feel it was Chester's baby.

And then the painting started. running out of paint during the final wall before the holes were filled in fuelled the fire for this little installation. I call it 'Cock' and it will feature exclusively at the Hughes Gallery until Sunday 8th January. Seeing is believing so I urge you to see it as quickly as possible.



Album wars: The Strokes vs We Are Scientists.
Strokes - good clothes, We Are Scientists - bass player has moustache
Strokes - need better songs, W.A.S. - have good songs, some great

Winner: We Are Scientists

IT'S SCOTCH-ROMANIAN

Moving house is like taking all your stuff from one place, and putting them somewhere else where you now live.

2 out of 3 done, now there is only one more trial to do before the end of the year. It's proving the most difficult.

Life is a little like the Krypton Factor. There's general knowledge, observation, physical assult courses and landing a plane. The only difference is that Tony Slattery doesn't appear all the time when I'm observing things.

DID LIL' BOW WOW BECOME JUST BOW WOW?

Now my camera is running out of batteries and the charger is in a box somewhere in a hole in a building in Hanwell. Not that it really matters, I'm still too scared to take it to gigs in case a burly bouncer has an issue with it.

Gigs I didn't take my camera to: Hard-Fi, Sigur Ros, Johnathan Rice, My Chemical Romance.

Gigs I won't take my camera to due to low battery: Nada Surf, Alkaline Trio, Elbow and whatever else I'll go to before I move (which is close too).

I need a haircut but I'm too scared.

Football you ask? Well on a windy wet afternoon in Northolt we crushed some tigers 9-0. Ha ha. 'We'd thrash them on a decent surface' we heard them murmur. It's a pity they booked the fucking pitch in the arse end of nowhere then.

When are Hope Of The States coming back?

YOU CAN CALL THE GODDAMN FIRE DEPARTMENT

Ok, the posts have been a bit slack of late. Where did we get to beforehand? I think the season was going well. Then we had to change the goalkeeper for a game on hard astroturf (old style turf with sand not the new stuff with little rubber bits). The oppositions resident no toothed nutter got sent off and we won 3-1 (I think). Goalscorers pass me by.

Team:



Because the goalkeeper, apparently, played so well, he was allowed (allowed? I didn't want to play in goal) to keep his place. We had a nightmare and lost 4-1.

Team:



The next game I didn't play as I injured my back somehow. So I sat it out and we lost 4-2. Team to be posted when I can be bothered.

The dressing room was a sorry place to be. Heads were low and there was talk of extra training. This will not materialise.

Currently I am lodging so I can't get the pictures off my camera. But believe me, when I do you will see remarkable photos of the many rock and pop concerts I go to like this:



And I'll post more because work is shit.

HE TRULY DEFINES GRACE UNDER PRESSURE

Cup game. One a piece. Again we went one up. A glorious finish by the Wemyss Junior. Only to concede a debatable free kick (aren't they all) 10 minutes later. Their player ghosted in at the back post to equalise. It was the equaliser. It was Edward Woodward.



Anger has come over me. I cannot explain and I will not. But the fact of the matter is I was hoping for some time off in December, a lot of time off, and now I have to take half of that in November.

I'M LEAVING YOU, YOU COW

The win was sweet, the style was shambolic, the goals were good. Goals from Kings Of Leon, Kaiser and a late winner from Gavin gave us a much needed win. We showed great character to come back from being equalised twice, once from a howler from the gaffer and another from a dubious onside decision.

Team:

I NEVER GET SHOTGUN

Third game of the season, and what are the chances of having three actual football results rather than crazy schoolboy scores. Well this one was 0-0. Another good performance by the defence (unlike the friendlies) and too few shots on target again. To be fair Kings Of Leon had an excellent shot saved by the comedy terrorist but deserved to be booked for his Klinsmannesque acrobatics in the box. Talking of Klinsmann, the Kaiser's goal celebrations were a tad premature as his goal was ruled out for offside. Much huffing and protest ensued, but the referee's decision is final. What's missing is some ruthlessness in front of goal.

Anyway - team:



What other news you cry? None.

Disappointing albums #1. Franz Ferdinand - You Could Have It So blah blah blah

Bored of being homeless. Bored of looking at flats. Even more bored of estate agents. Are they all complete nobs? The one on Saturday turned up 15 minutes late, having not prepared because he didn't have a load of keys, with his regulation mid 20s estate agent haircut and driving an H-reg Porsche. Not a good look.

SCIENCE AND PROGRESS

The posts here have gone from the mindless ramblings I had hoped to bring the immortal few who would come here, to actual real life stories. For that I can only apologise. House difficulties have arisen over the last few weeks, from being one day away from signing papers to having to start all over again after pullingout myself of buying this place. Of course I am bitter. The seller is an absolute arse and the place he was selling was a complete shithole. I will buy a better flat with monkey butlers and a fireman's pole down the middle. A young Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd will be my neighbours and we will have hilarious adventures.

Second game on Sunday. A glorious 3-1 win. Again only 11 men as the Bernies were at Reeksy's wedding. Team was:



This is the start of a good season, perhaps. No whining, team playing together as one. Good goals. Hurrah.

B-b-b-b-bennie & The Jets.

THE CHINAMAN IS NOT THE ISSUE

What can I say? What can I say? Sunday's football was a strange affair. Bickering, only 11 men showed and an alarming lack of shots on goal. In the end we lost 1-0.

Team was:


But let us not dwell on that. Let us dwell on this.

Who knows what will happen. I for one will not. It's not that I don't know, it's just that I've forgotten.

Homeless for nineteen days and counting.

PERHAPS YOU'D LIKE TO COME BY AND MOW MY LAWN

The last of the friendlies was last night. Of course we won 7-5, a disastrous defending first half with mid field and defence at sixes and sevens with the long ball. The team for last night was as follows:



We wore the black kits for the first time since their airing in Bratislava. Looking like vicars, we strode out onto the hallowed plastic turf.

Previous unreported friendlies were a 4-4 draw and a 5-1 victory. First game on Sunday. What will the team be? Only the gaffer knows, and even he'll leave it until the last minute.

The turnout is expected to be high. Many players now have wives and some actually have friends. Many questions will also be asked. Will Bernie turn up mashed? Will Andy have cut The Cock? Does Paul have a thing for Brazilian boys? Find out next week.

I WAS BORN TO RUB YOU

Lo and behold, two Steve Guttenberg film os UK terrestrial television yesterday. The sublime Cocoon, which we can now see is more of an ensemble cast rather than a Guttenberg vehicle, and Police Academy, a breathtaking piece of cinema.

Hopefully this prophecy will continue, so therefore over the coming weeks we will be looking at the movies of Chevy Chase and the death of John Candy.

Chevy Chase was always destined to descend, as he set himself such high standards.

The first football game of the season, a friendly, yesterday resulted in a triumphant win. The score was either 7-0 or 8-0. Kaiser scored a remarkable 6, and the gaffer went upfront in the last ten to score a poacher's goal.

Team:

TIME SPEEDS BY IN THE FORM OF A NEON SNAKE

What of Steve Guttenberg?

Police Academy - 1984
Police Acedemy 2 - 1985 (Quick turnaround or early franchise realisation)
Cocoon - 1985
Police Academy 3 - 1986
Short Circuit - 1986 (No. 1 Box office draw by this time)
Police Academy 4 - 1987 (And to think you had to wait 3 years between Star Wars films)
Three Men And A Baby - 1987 (This man is prolific)
High Spirits - 1988
Cocoon: The Return - 1988
Three Men & A Little Lady - 1990

And then nothing until 1995 where Guttenberg had a string of bad reviews and no leads to remember.

How can one man fly so high for that 6 year period but then fall from grace with such velocity. It wasn't even as if Three Men & A Little Lady was a bad film.

Come back Steve Guttenberg. We miss you.

THANKS TCHAIKOVSKY. THANKOVSKY

Well the response to the picture of Richie Benaud was unprecedented. Many people want to know more about Richie and what sort of things he likes. So here goes:

FACT! Richie is not his real name. It's Richard.

FACT! Benaud is pronounced Benno.

FACT! Richie used to be a professional Cricket player.

FACT! Richie's parents were both turtles.

FACT! Richie is from Australia.

FACT! Richie is 74 years old (even though he looks 149)

An here's some more pictures of Richie to keep you ladies company on those long lonely nights at sea.

I'LL WAGER HE HAS SOME KIND OF WALKING CLOCK IN THERE

This just in. There was a third K-9 film: K-9:P.I. IMDB calls this film 'Truly funny' and the plot reads as 'Dooley and his K-9 partner Jerry Lee are ready to retire from the police force. But before he can retire with his pension he must work as a P.I. to find a set of high tech computer chips.' To be honest, it sounds awesome and whould be view immediately.




In other news, Cricket fever is sweeping the nation. The Department of Names (DoN) has reported a 400% rise in boys called Freddie and an unprecedented 2000% rise in girls being named Benaud.















Benaud yesterday: A handsome man and a good name