Monday, 9 November 2009

This weekend. The one that just happened.

... Was a good one. Friday night all sensible and civilised and housebound. A Saturday morning at a farmer's market and making the best breakfast I've ever had. The evening contained a fine gig by the fantastic Daniel Kitson. I never realised we had so much in common. By 'so much' I mean we both have/had an aunt with Down's Syndrome. His died, mine hasn't, his liked nickabockaglory, mine doesn't have the ability to keep her internal monologue internal. So there are a few differences.

Regardless, his entire set was wonderful, there were some ponderous, reflective moments which was only fitting considering the central theme was death. There was a bit of repetition from the gig I saw him do over the summer, mainly about tea and cumming in his own face (he's also done it into an open fire now, awesome!). Anyway, utterly assured delivery, rich and intelligent material and oodles of hilarity. Bravo that man.

Then there was Sunday which started with another fine breakfast masterminded by me. Afterwards was a delightful afternoon Lost marathon (7-8 episodes in one sitting) with two beautiful ladies. I am a very lucky boy sometimes. To round off the day I danced around my room like a teenage girl to a strange collection of electro, indie and motown. Lovely stuff.

Today is Monday and I have it off. To celebrate I've had 5 rashers of bacon and 4 cups of coffee. Whoop!

Tally ho.x

Tuesday, 20 October 2009


I have been recovering from an operation, this is my excuse.

Tuesday, 22 September 2009


This perhaps?

Or perhaps this?

This is just plain clever.

All change

Dear Blog

Hello. I am very pleased BBC 7 are playing the Paul McGann Doctor Who radio episodes. Fleshes out the rather wasted Eighth Doctor. It's also ruthlessly whetting my appetite for the remaining Tennant specials. It's also helping me get through a particularly difficult, stressful and boring period at work. I hope i get some kick ass painkillers.

There are 9 days until my operation, but 8 until my pre-exam, which promises to be just as intrusive as the operation itself. I'm in two minds about it. It'll be a bit scary, painful for a few weeks, undignified and frustrating for at least 6 weeks. However, it's necessary, everything will be a lot better afterward and i get about 10 days off work. On balance, it'll be great. Sadly it also means I don't get to move in our Shiny New Flat as soon as I'd like, but I do get a couple of weeks to savour my family home for the very last time.

Shiny New Flat isn't particularly shiny or new, but it's new to me, in a perfect location and i get a whole floor to myself, woop. It's on Stoke Newington High Street above the bookshop, a rather perfect location and a nice sized place. Cycling to work here I come. Pictures!

Went to Bestival, it was excellent; music, people, mess. Good times. Buraka Som Sistema might just have been my favourite band again, but Bat For Lashes was also splendid and Soulwax surprised me. Again, Kraftwerk did their thing and everyone was happy.

The End. x

Friday, 21 August 2009

The Triumphant Return

Dear Blog-of-mine, i return. mainly because it's a Friday lunchtime, I have no money and it's raining so I can't play out.

I have done many things since I lost wrote. Not least of which was an epic (read: two week) journey around sections of Eastern Europe. Started in Budapest in Hungary which is a fabulous city, ramshackle and neglected in some senses but oozing history and atmosphere through every pore. It's also got some of the finest bars I've ever been to, is cheaper than should be allowed and has some wonderful people (especially hostel owners) populating it. I met some brilliant people over there who I've managed to keep in regular contact with. So full marks Budapest (mostly Pest). Definitely going back.

After that was Novi Sad, Serbia for the Exit Festival. I do not say this lightly but it is easily on a par, in my estimations at least, with Glastonbury. It's different in so many ways but very similar in others. Different in terms of the setting, the general musical tilt and the type of attendee. Similar in terms of the atmosphere, attitude of the crowd, inclusive, progressive, exciting nature of practically every single area. What made it so enjoyable in terms of atmosphere is sadly the element I have always loved about Glastonbury but is gradually being lost as it shifts towards a more consumerist ideal where each attendee is a punter who needs to be rinsed for every penny they have and distrusted at every turn, rather than a member of an enormous group of like-minded people in search of the best time possible in the most friendly manner manageable. I really hate to be one of those sanctimonious arseholes that goes on about how it 'used to be' but there is some truth in the idea that some fraction of what made it so crucial and exciting is being lost each year. Exit on the other hand is utterly nuts. Incredible sound systems, reasonable costs for entry, food and drink, relatively liberal security, outstanding location (Petrovaradin Fortress on a massive hill overlooking the Danube), huge, mind boggling array of music of every sort and the 8pm-8am timing. What is lacks is the camping element that makes Glasto a big city of oddness. There is a campsite, which is a 20 minute uphill walk away, but the heat, the place and the sleep pattern of the looong weekend make the alternative: hiring a house or apartment, a far more sensible and enjoyable experience.

I stayed in a house with about 13-14 other people in a house about 3km from the festival in a lovely little place called Sremska Kamenica. We were looked after by a brilliant man called Dragan and got to play with a 5 month old Husky cross called Foxy every day, not to mention the working bathrooms, beds and oh, swimming pool(!). We also got to see a little more of what Serbia is actually like rather than just the festival full of foreigners. In short, it was great. And I haven't even mentioned the music.

After that (and the worst, followed by best, train journeys of my life) I got to Split in Croatia. My plan was to laze around and recover on the beach... what actually happened was further days and nights of frantic drinking and hedonism. I meant to go to some of the islands on a day trip while i was there. I didn't in the end because the train journey from Zagreb to Split left me utterly smitten with the country, I vow to go back within a year and do the islands justice by seeing them properly.

Then I cam back to London and work and everything was shit again. Except the things that weren't/aren't shit, which are brilliant.

In other news I bought a new (second-hand) bike last week. I have, after 5 or so months, got up the courage to get back on the roads after my unfortunate getting-run-over-by-an-old-lady incident earlier in the year. Wish me luck.

Finished. x

Tuesday, 4 August 2009


Sorry little blog, i have neglected you. Promise to write something very soon... on my lovely tiny netbook too.

So many things to write about. My holiday (featuring Exit), Party, Field Day, all the other things that may or may not have happened.


Wednesday, 1 July 2009

Slutcracker/Mini-Freeze 29/06/09

Attended another fabulous Invisible Dot event on Monday, which almost reached the infernal heat levels of the Incorporation Party.

This time Mr Basden was otherwise enageged doing a preview for his Edinburgh show at the Hen & Chickens (again) so it wasn't Freeze proper, more a long series of stuff and things from Mr Key with assistance from Fletch. The fun was not curtailed though and the place looked like it was sold out, which was rather nice... although it didn't help the temperature situation. There were poems, short films, trumpet reccittals, chats and all sorts, and at the end Tommy B finally made it to give us a thin slice of the regular Freeze. It were funny, it were.

I go on holiday in just three days, whooooooosh.

Pip pip x

Monday, 22 June 2009

I do have an apple though...

It's that time of day/week again where I waffle on aimlessly for a few minutes to pretend to myself that I'm doing something.

Once I get paid I swear, I SWEAR, I am going to buy a delicious can of fizzy pop. The worst thing about my pockets at the moment is that they do not contain enough money to fulfill this ambition already. Apparently, at some point Someone Who Is In Charge decided that existing in Central London wasn't hateful enough and made things so that 47p (1x 20p, 2x 10p, 3x 2p, 1x 1p) was not enough for a can of lovely carbonated drink. This means reliance on the water cooler and the various teas available in the little kitchen bit.

What the fuck is it about Michael McIntyre that gets him so much work? Having seen him rise in profile from his early radio/tv panel show appearances and spots on stand-up shpwcases as clearly the least funny participant, it is with utter bafflement and incredulity that I behold his smug straddling of the pinnacle of popular comedy.

He has a plummy voice. That's it. He has a plummy voice and that seems to be acceptable as a substitute for decent material. Every single joke he makes in his 'Roadshow' is agonizingly banal, his delivery staggeringly self-satisfied. He also has a face that looks like an 80s animatronic model of a gameshow host. It's a shame that he has some really good stand-ups on the aforementioned Roadshow, it gets very tiresome skipping through his parts on iplayer.

Wow, didn't realise I had that much venom in me. This is a bit like therapy, but free and even more self indulgent.

AAAGGGHHH, staring up from my desk is a picture of Hazel Blears. I hadn't realised this, she must have been staring at me for at least 45 minutes. I am distressed. From now on every time I go into a room I'm going to check for pictures of Hazel Blears, checking again every 25 minutes to make sure none have crept in. I have no idea what I'd do if I found any, probably shriek on horror, like I am now.

Good night (afternoon) and good luck (in avoiding Hazel Blears) x

Friday, 19 June 2009

The Righteous Fury Minute

Is this the worst man in the world or is pond life like him disqualified from polls of human disgrace?

I actually feel quite bad for lumping pond life with the likes of him. A newt has never made me want to fire it into the sun or hit it with a hammer, a tadpole has a useful place in a pond eco-system, waterboatmen scuttle about on the water's surface like little ice skaters, delightful creatures one and all.

Littlejohn is superfluous, a reactionary, bigoted, bullshit merchant. I shit in your face, Richard. Shit in your face.


Shit, I've broken myself. After a couple of weeks of making the hardest decision of my life and switching to Diet Coke, I've just bought a regular Coke and I think it tastes weird.

What have I done? More importantly, why have I done it?

NO Locke & Key at the Forbidden Planet today, it should be released more regularly, because apart from the peerless Walking Dead it's the best comic around. There's DMZ too, but I need to catch up on the paperbacks and at £10 a pop and 3 or 4 I still need, unless I'm willing to live off berries and seeds I might have to wait until I'm paid.

In a moment of idle thought I came up with the name 'Crab-Shack', imagining it to be like a kind of Pizza Hut that only sells crab... then Google tapped me on the shoulder and told me it already exists. In London, Jersey, Georgia. What?

More driving today with fabulous Fabio. I hope i don;t spend the whole two hours screwing up, like last time.

Adios x

Wednesday, 17 June 2009

Welcome to Urville

The above is a poster that my friend Emily did, I'm putting up it for no other reason than it looks nice. Like a poster on a wall. There's lots more of her and the Plats kids' stuff here, go there!

Hmmmm, what to write, what to write.... there's nothing, that's always an option. Don't think I'll take it up though, I feel like spending at least a little bit of my lunch hour doing something I don't despise.

It's 2 weeks and 3 days until I go on holiday and I'm finding it difficult to wait. Budapest-Novi Sad-Split, that's the route, with the Exit festival occurring in the middle bit. Hopefully it'll be a lot of fun. I'm traveling alone for most of it, not feeling apprehensive as such, but more curious as to how I'll cope in my own company in strange places. I'm used to it in familiar places, but these ones will be unusual and exotic, what if I get on my nerves more without my home comforts?

Things I'm planning to do: dance all night, something that involves being on a boat, get in the sea, get out of the sea, eat lots of delicious food (involving sea creatures preferably), go to the island of Brac, find things, see unusual countries I never expected to visit (Serbia?!), experience two weeks of sunny days, have a look around Diocletian's Palace.
I just ordered this ^ book from Amazon. Not sure whether to do a good thing and give it to a friend for his birthday or keep it for my greedy self. Gilles Tréhin is an autistic savant who's imagined a city, to the tiniest detail, and drawn it. It's this kind of thing that leaves me spellbound by the capacity of the human mind.

I think that's all I have to say today.

Adieu x

Monday, 15 June 2009

Freeze! 15/06/09

Very brief little review of a (make no bones about it) bloody great evening.

One more triumph for the inimitable, undefinable Invisible Dot. It was my first ever Freeze! tonight and hopefully not the last. The first half comprised of a wonderful mix of poems, sketches, songs and merriment from Messrs Key and Basden. Tough subjects like War and Sir Stephen Redgrave were tackled with aplomb. There was even a commercial interlude to showcase the hot new product 'Woodland Rain', which revealed, intimately, the (almost) full Basden and Key personage(s).

The second half kicked off with a brief biographical insight from Tim Key, which neatly echoed the revelation of Tom Basden's address, phone number and email address from the first half. And continued with the short (24 minute) film 'The One and Only Herb McGwyer Plays Wallis Island'. I can describe this as nothing short of an absolute delight. The perfect balance between levity and pathos. It was inadvertantly accompanied by the sound of a couple of loud yawns, an argument/loud debate outside and the passing wail of a police siren, but not to it's detriment.

I feel I should reveal my vested interest; I was given the role of a kind of town crier before the gig, involving telling everyone it would start in 5 minutes. A small role you might say, but one I am immensely proud of.

Next Monday Tom Basden has a preview of his Edinburgh material at the Hen & Chickens, think I might attend.

Byeeeee x
I like this.

The man himself (Bang-yao Liu) said this: "This is my senior project at Savannah College of Art and Design. Where my idea comes from is that every time when I am busy, I feel that I am not fighting with my works, I am fighting with those post-it notes and deadline. I manipulating the post-it notes to do pixel-like stop motion and there are some interactions between real actor and post-its."

Now the dawn has cracked, like that bric a brac I wish I'd bubble wrapped

Today I think I'll write a little bit about a song I am mildly (read: completely) obsessed with at the moment. The song in question is by a wee band called The Wild Wolves, formed by Alex Cox the former drummer of the now defunct Vincent Vincent and the Villains.

I am usually loathe to even visit myspace (home of the Repetitive Impersonal Promotion), let alone listen to music on it, yet this song, unavailable elsewhere, has me returning daily and often for extended periods.

It's called 'Honey' and I love love love it. It has echos of VV&tV in its old fashioned take on rock and roll, with helpful doses of chirpy drums and smooth, airy backing vocals. But I've never ever ever been very good at describing music so I'll stop trying there and just encourage a listen.

At 1,299 listens at the time of writing this is criminally under-exposed. So the more attention the better.

Honourable mention must also go to a band called Fiction, who I saw last week supporting (I say supporting, I mean they happened, by chance, to be earlier on the bill than) my buddypals The Overcoats. They're one of the most visually striking bands I've seen in a long time, mainly due to the two front men also being the drummers... stand-up centre-stage drummers sharing only three or so drums and a cow bell. Their offering is angular post-punky stuff and they are damn good fun, 'Curiosity' being a personal highlight

And now look what I've gone and done, claimed to dislike myspace and proceeded to link to three different myspace pages. Shameful hypocrisy.

In other news, tonight I'm going to my first Freeze! and very much looking forward to it.

Toodle-oo x

Sunday, 14 June 2009

For the sake of it

I am writitng this on a Macbook in a kitchen in Chichester. This is something of a change and I thought I'd make a note of it for posterity.

My oh my, the conundrum of having a blog but nothing to write.

I'm justifying this sentence to the right, because I can, you're not the boss of me.

Tuesday, 9 June 2009


Hello me, you are the only one likely to read this. It's like secrets. Really boring secrets.