∆TØMIC V∆LLEY

ohhhhhhhhhhhh

2011-10-22T01:38:00.004+01:00

millions'a dead kids
askin me
"what the time?" is
but i dont wanna tell
any body anything
cause i don't wanna know
any body or any thing
two heads and four arms
dont you know?
that's two people in

So i say:
"anybody, anything
little room
all cramped in!"

2011-01-19T21:15:00.001Z

My problem is and will always be that I'm too RADICAL

2010-06-20T21:24:00.000+01:00

The last film I consciously watched

2010-06-09T19:33:00.000+01:00

An attempt to exercise my literary muscle, laugh and chastise where appropriate. Cheers.

One Fine Day is an American romantic comedy from the mid-90s that starred Michelle Pfeiffer and George Clooney as two single working parents who fall in love through a comedy of errors.

George Clooney is the fucking shit in this film; he spends the whole film being a pretty shoddy weekend dad, with a real chauvinistic and arrogant streak to him. One day he meets this strong, hardworking, ambitious single mother Michelle Pfeiffer, fucks up her day and kind of dicks her around to boot. He makes fun of her and belittles her for a majority portion of the film, she bites back a little but he manages to charm his way out of every confrontation the two have.

The script is that, although these two are polar opposites there's obviously a metric tonne of sexual tension between them, the fact that they have kids is what propels the plot and makes this film marginally different from every other "boy meets girl, they hate each other but secretly want to fuck" flick. As the film plods on both characters find themselves in precarious situations involving their children and their respective careers and find themselves having to rely on each other a great deal at various points in the narrative. Michelle's character spends a lot of time freaking out about shit that single mother would freak out about, and George spends just as much time being the world's most debonair dead beat.

An hour and a half later, it all comes to a head; they're having one of those rom com arguments that sum up the majority of the film and makes it clear that they had the hots for each other all along. Clooney says some cheesy Rhett Butler shit only him and Clark Gable himself would be able to get away with and Michelle pulls a Blanche and quivers in the glory of his masculinity, you can pretty much hear her knees knocking together and her pussy dripping as he leans in to kiss her but then her damn kid totally ruins the moment and asks for a bottle of milk or something like that. She's all pissed off cause he just Vag-blocked her and hurried the little tyke to bed. Once she's free of the burden of motherhood, she tells George to wait a minute whilst she gets ready.

At this point our once independent and headstrong woman is literally falling over herself, shaving her legs and prettying herself up and shit so he can tear her pussy to bits, Which he doesn't even do in the end, cause it’s a PG film, plus old' Georgey is plenty tired out from being such a charming son of a bitch for so long. He falls asleep on the couch, and she cuddles up to him like he's daddy at Christmas and all she ever needed to make her life complete was a George Clooney all of her own.

Yeah, this film is, like most romantic comedies, inherently sexist. There's no way to really dodge that bullet, but what in my opinion lets it get away with that is the simple fact that the deadbeat, arrogant, childish mook of a weekend dad our heroine gives it all up for is George "Confirmed Bachelor" Clooney. A man so roguishly handsome and excruciatingly charming is like kryptonite to any woman, regardless of her ideals or strength of character. Perhaps there may not even have been a suffrage movement way back when if all men in those days were as suave and as coy as George Clooney is on any given day, who wants to vote when you can live out your life in servitude to keenest guy who ever lived?

2010-04-06T05:00:00.001+01:00

I had a really intense dream about haunted houses, robots and people I haven't spoken to in forever.
I can't remember what what really went down in it any more but three key things I remember were playing N64 with an old friend, living in a house that had killer robots in the basement and watching a train go past my house.

chumps in love

2010-03-08T21:10:00.001Z

Snap City

2010-03-02T03:40:00.000Z

Big City Delusional

2010-02-26T02:06:00.001Z

A young girl meets the man of her dreams.

I met a really nice boy on my way to uni the other day; he ran over to me from across the street and told me he just had to have my number so he could call me sometime. He talked about my dress and the way that I walked, like Grace Kelly, he told me. He even used the words breath taking! It was like something out of a Douglas Sirk film, I was powerless to say no. Such romance!

We’ve seen each other every day since then. He smells of clove cigarettes and he dresses so well. What a handsome man he is, and he really is a man. Nothing like the other boys I’ve known, nothing like them at all. Such a strong jaw line, broad shoulders and arms I feel so secure in. oh, they hold me so tight!

I often wonder what he’s doing with a girl like me. It must be love, it has to be love. Why else would we spend so much time together? Today we went for a walk in the park. Sat in the grass, he told me about his family. The way he spoke of his mother and his father, his younger sister too, I felt as though I would cry.

“Francis, I feel like I’ve known you for months and months.”

I placed my hand over his.

“Oh, really? I imagine I’d feel the same, if I were real.”

I didn’t understand what he meant; I asked him why he would say something so strange. I asked him to explain exactly what he meant.

He stood up and I did the same. He held both my hands, looked right in to me with those eyes of his. So piercing and blue.

“I mean that I’m not real, Sarah. None of this is. It is all in your head, you’re unattractive and you haven’t been on a date in months. I could never be with you, I look like Marlon Brando and I compare you to classically beautiful, dead actresses. My name is Francis for god sakes, no one is called Francis! Really Sarah, how could any of this be real?”

He let go of my hands and I began to cry. How could he be so cruel, how could he say such callous things?
I asked him if he was intentionally trying to break my heart. He looked right through me once again. Couldn’t he see the tears in my eyes?

“Listen; really listen to me when I say this Sarah. Someone like me could never, ever, love someone like you.”

And then he was gone.

Geniuses of Love

2010-02-21T20:44:00.000Z

Massive shout out to the ladies over @ Heartbreak Zine HQ, got a copy of their zine in the mail the other day and it realy is quite a treat.

S'all sold out now, so I hear. But I guess keep yer eyes peeled for ish #2

http://heartbreakzine.blogspot.com/

I've still yet to do anything worth mentioning with myself just yet, keep your ears to the ground.

New Years 07?

2010-02-16T05:10:00.000Z

A true story that might make you think less of me than you probably already do.

Once one New Years I had the good fortune of being used as a pawn in a lesbian couple's tryst. One girl was pissed off at the other for not fully coming out of the closet or something like that and decided to use me as a way to get back at the other. As such, I found myself on someone's parent's bedroom floor getting heavy handed and tactile with some girl I barely knew; as all of this is going on the other girl comes in and says something, then we all started kissing. It sounds like the kind of thing someone would make up, and sure, up until then this sort of scenario had been the sort of thing I'd had dreams about, but my luck being what it is, it didn't take long for this tryst to turn in to a nightmare.

Whilst I'm alternating between girls I notice that there happens to be a lot of blood around one of the girl's groin. We assume it's maybe that time of month for her, and everyone involved is pretty mortified, most of all me. I get up, compose myself and tell the bleeding girl and her girlfriend not to tell anyone about what's just happened. As I'm washing my hands in the bathroom, I notice that there's actually a large gash just below my middle finger, I return to the room to explain the situation (the lesbians are arguing and looking upset) and I see that the whole time we were doing whatever, there had been a broken Pimms bottle on the floor which I must have cut my hand on.

At this point I'm super psyched because:

a) I'm 17 years old and have just been fooling around with two girls at the same time and
b) I just found out the blood on my hand wasn't period blood, as I had previously thought.

The girl who I had bled on (in?) is super pissed off because I have just bled all over her genitals. She and her girlfriend have a go at me for a while, but I can't stop smiling and laughing. I leave the room and proceed to tell my two best friends what had just happened, they laugh and grimace accordingly. It's probably the most disgusting and insconsiderate thing I have ever done, but I really can't put in to words how glad I am that some drunk cooze didn't get period blood all over my hand.

I probably deserve to die alone because of that, sorry girls, whatever your names were. And sorry to whomever had to wash the blood out of the carpet and off some of the walls.

That's totally Pop!

2010-02-11T16:59:00.000Z

Big City Cyclical

2010-01-31T23:55:00.003Z

Big City Cyclical

Intrepid intern Kip Calvin reviews his choice in women.

Sometimes, when I’m talking to Miranda, when she is twisting her hair and she is chewing her gum. I get a feeling, something of an inclination, that maybe I’d be having a much better time watching a freshly painted wall.

It isn’t so much the things that she says, but the way that she says them; I just cannot find a way to justify the time I spend in her company.

We went for a meal one Friday, an expensive Italian place. I told her about my artwork, she didn’t like the way I wore my tie.

Later that night, we slept together and then arranged to meet up again the next week.

Sometimes, when I’m talking to Miranda…

Oldies but goldies!

2010-01-19T21:42:00.002Z

We've all heard that pontificating turn of phrase about the old ones being the best, but fuck me if it’s an idiom that doesn’t consistently ring true. These days more than ever I’m getting a lot of pleasure from delving head first in to the back catalogue of bands whose output had either gotten lost in the sands of time or that I’d just completely manage to miss out on due to either my own ignorance or being born in the wrong decade. As such, I’ve decide that I’ll now be taking the time to provide showcase for the forgotten classics that could of been something and the timeless tracks that I just never had the good sense to listen to before. Hopefully you’ll dig them all as

much as I do, at any rate it gives me a platform to name drop semi-obscure bands and artists without sounding too much like a pompous elitist

To start us off today, I’ll be talking about the oft referenced, but rarely talked about (at least in the circles I move in) dance punk group Medium Medium. They came out of Nottingham and on to the post punk scene in earnest way back in ‘81 with their second single “Hungry, So Angry”; the track was and is nothing short of a belter. A full force cacophony of shrieking guitars, pained vocals and wailing sax, all accompanied a slap bass line tastefully appropriated from the funk/R&B genres that many of their contemporaries were experimenting with at the time. Though it was essentially a break up song, there was nothing fey or reserved about the way the song was delivered, it mixed gloomy post punk catharsis and woe with a hubris that wouldn’t sound at all out of place on dance floors of any of the discotheques at the time.

After a slew of positive press and adulation, and a few slots supporting U2 of all people, the band went on tour. Members left and members joined but the time their first and only album “The Glitterhouse” hit the record stores the band decided to call it quits, no more than a year after the single that bought them their fame had been cut. Singer and sax player John Rees, who had always maintained an interest in world music went on to start up the ethnically influenced C Cat Trance (who are excellent by the way) , and the band fell into relative obscurity, whilst other northern post punk groups such as Gang Of Four experienced almost meteoric rises to fame.

Despite all this, I think the “The Glitterhouse” has left a pretty audible mark on modern music of its genus, one I’d say was as prominent and as important as Gang of Four did. To listen to as a whole it sounds like an album The Rapture, Radio 4 or some other band of that ilk could have made or at least ripped off, there’s a rawness to it I’m reminded of whenever I listen to House of Jealous Lovers or something similar.

As good as Hungry, So Angry is, the best song off the album is the one that it shares its title with, The Glitterhouse. It’s a wacked out little ditty based on the ranting of a friend of the band who was going through a mental breakdown at the time and later joined a cult, it comes fully equipped with a hauntingly distant, yet entirely temperamental vocal and is bolstered by sparse, teasingly ethnic percussions. It only lasts about two minutes, one of the shortest on the whole album but there’s something very ghostly about it, both in terms of the way the song comes across and the subject matter itself, all the different aspects of the song seek to gain your full attention and by the time it’s gotten you hooked, it’s gone as quick as it arrived.

So there you have it, an oldie that is truly a goldie, I just can’t get enough of it, and you should check it out too.

Here’s a link to the album’s title track. Enjoy.

heartbreaker

2010-01-19T00:27:00.003Z

I wrote this, for this - its littered with spelling and grammar mistakes cause I'm an idiot.

An Apology.

This one goes out to Sarah, last name unknown. She was some girl who studied art or graphics or something of that genus at Central St. Martins. Bisexual, northern, with a pronounced interest in gender politics and the television show Gilmour Girls, Sarah was, for the most part very attractive: I’d say about a 6 when you’re totally sober, and about a 7.5 when she’s wearing her fuck me threads and you’re leering at her with coke wrap eyes, which is exactly the state I was in on that fateful night our paths did cross.We met one evening at a clubnight my house mate at the time had put on at The Macbeth; she was very drunk and I’d been spending a significant portion of the evening knelt down in toilet cubibicles, if you’re picking up what I’m putting down.

Anyway, our romance was brief in most senses of the word, and to this day I’ve never seen her around and her number didn’t even make it on to my “remember to text when drunk , lonely and horny” list, but despite all this, she sticks out in the forefront of my mind as a girl I must apologize to. It’s not so much how I treated her, and its not anything I said; its a simple matter of poor performance.

You see, usually I go about my business with appreciative vigour, maybe not the greatest of lovers but what I might lack in length or versatility I tend to make up for with heart. Like the kid in P.E who is pretty shit at sports, but gives everything a go anyway and laughs it off when he scores an own goal .People let him join in, not on the basis of his skill, but ‘cause he’s a team player and his clumsy antics are good for the squads morale .

For some reason that escapes me right now, on this night in particular I’d been hitting the source and the blow pretty heavy, and though the spirit, as it always is, was willing – the body just couldn’t cough up the goods. I’ll paint the scene for you: after a couple minutes of empty talk and obvious to the point of embarrasing flirtation, we’re on our way to her house. We’re on her sofa knocking back vodka and in a shallow and cynical attempt to impress her with my intellect, I yack it up a little about having read the first few pages of a Dostoevsky novel. She digs it and tells me she has a copy of the same book in her bedroom - Score. Seconds later I’m tearing my skinnies off with all the excitement of a kid at christmas. I grab a rubber and I’m all about ready to get down to the do but just one problem: it turns out my erection called in sick today and won’t be able to make it in till at least tomorrow morning.

So, here I am on this poor girl’s bed, making jokes about some dumb thing or the other I saw on tv whilst she watches me trying in vain to roll a durex down the shaft of my semi flacid penis. Out of sheer nerves and embarassment I start cracking wise at her: “I’m not like, broken or anything, I’m still a man...” all she does is look at me, at it, her face the portrait of disapointment. Eventually I manage to get the damned thing on, and even though I can’t seem to make it past semiprofiency I figure that I’ve gotten far enough in this endevour to at least try and get it up her.There’s alotta rolling around, apologetic mumbling and plenty of tutting coming from her direction. I’m doing the best that I can and she’s not having a bar of it.

Eventually we call the whole thing off and she says she needs to get some sleep for some reason or the other, too wasted to put my clothes back on I ended up sleeping naked but the girl was so sour about what we’d just been through that she wouldn’t let me spoon. Total insult to injury.

Well, morning comes and the lady is a good sport enough to make me some coffee and walk me to the station. We make some idle conversation about something boring as we foot it out of her halls of residence, but there’s no getting past the fact that I was a shitty lay. We both knew it, we both felt it (well she didn’t feel much) and despite the fact that we exchanged numbers and left each other’s company in fairly good spiritis, there was no chance in hell we were ever going to see each other again.

Anyway, she seemed like the kinda girl who’d be in to ‘zines so there’s a slight chance she might read this, I hope she does because here’s my apology:

Hi Sarah, how are you, hows your course and did you ever end up living in a squat like you said you wanted to?! I am doing well and in good health, thanks for asking.

I know that when you saw me leaning against the bar, weighing in at an unimpressive eight a half ston inbibing the latest in a succesion of poisons that you probably weren’t expecting the ride of the lifetime, and I know that when drunkenly I asked you if you were a fan of American Nightmare, you weren’t expecting much in terms of conversation.

But I feel as though, I really should apologize for not meeting the likely already very low expectations you had when you picked me out of the crowd of drunken losers and assholes that night. I promise and I assure you that it was simply a one time thing and I usually am not so completely inept at forming the beast with two backs.

So yeah, if you’re ever in New Cross and you feel like having some clumsy, but effective sex, please don’t hesistate to search me out, I almost feel as though I owe it to you.

Sincerely yours,

That Guy Who Couldn’t Get It Up And Wasn’t Very Good At Eating Pussy Either.

Easy livin'

2010-01-10T05:40:00.001Z

Alia Shawkat totally babed out since Arrested Development got cancelled.

Here's a picture of her in a catsuit.

Here's one in which she totally looks like she could be dating a Kennedy.

That's all really.

Theme from Big Wave

2009-12-23T15:10:00.000Z

I can't remember the last time I did or said anything remotely intelligent or worthwhile. I've become a total absence of productivity!

Here's hoping 2010 will be a lot less intellectually bankrupt. Self improvement here we come!

In the meantime, here's a song about surfing.

Big City Sartorial

2009-11-14T11:04:00.003Z

Ties! Yeah I got a bunch of ties, pal. Yeah...Mr Goldstein is always yackin' about ties: "It really does make a man what he is. How else can you tell a no goodnick punk from a true Prince Of Industry?" He yaps and he yaps, cigar in one hand, the other slouching outta his pocket like maybe he has a gun there or something. Anyway, when I'm down beneath his sight and he's calling me a talentless green horn, I get to thinking that maybe The Boss is right and maybe I oughta have at least a few classy ties kicking around. I want to be a captain of my domain, after-all.

So I got a bunch of pinstripe ones mostly, buncha novelty pieces for the fun days and something bold for the interviews. I'm a lion of the side walk with these goddam ties on, people look at me in the office and they say to me, they say "Hey there killer, go get 'em! You make them pray to you out there! Fuck 'em in the ass twice, champ!"I turn back to them and I smile my wry smile and I say Boy! I'll make 'em wish they never got up that morning. I'll take them out in the street and I'll fight 'em till the last man! Boy I will!

There is a silent agreement and a solemn nod of respect at this point. I get back to my drawings. Paint is my collateral.
Yesterday I was painting in the kitchen and spilt ink all over my sandwich. Sometimes the Big City just takes me in its jaws and eats me. I must taste like a winner.

One Tuesday this month Ol' Goldy calls me into his office. I have a bunch of illustrations for him to look over and maybe we'll toss a couple of ideas around, he wants me to design a whore house for him. Says the place has to be real swanky, the kind of whore house an airline pilot would frequent. So yeah, I'm in his office and I'm showing him my work in progress. He's wearing a new suit and chomping on a Cuban. He laughs a couple times as he's flicking through my portfolio:

"I do love the dames you know, I mean Mrs Goldstein aint so keen on some of the skirt I bring back, but I paid for her tits twice! Fucken bitch."

"Yes, sir! No doubt about it, I never met a man as commanding as you Sir! But what about the paintings, I was trying something new with my strokes. Lotta my heart in this one, Mister Goldstein, Sir...."

"Blow it out your ass kid, you don't know shit about heart! What is this crap you've handed me here? Holy shit. I wanted nubile baby dolls wrestling on a mountain of sexual viscera! You've ass fucked my vision to hell and back, Kid! Strokes? Like I give a fuck about you and your strokes! Pissant kids don't listen for shit this day an' age. Holy shit , this is real collegiate level garbage."

The Boss knows that mincing words is for the weak, real men of power and standing speak with a frank and brutal honesty. My boss is a crack pot son of a bitch, I've got to put him right about those strokes, those were real hearty brush strokes I did for him.

"But Bossman, what about the way the strokes communicate both high flying valour and untamed animal lust? These are my children, my way with the brush is the linchpin of this whore house. Heart, Sir! I'm not kidding when I say heart and soul Mr Gold!"

He looks impressed, he pulls the cigar outta his mouth, blows smoke in my face, punches me in the nose and says:

"Well awwrite, Kip Calvin you handsome sunnuvabitch! You got some balls in ya yet, don't ya kid? Say, hows about I give you an advance on this gig and you can take Clarice, my secretary out on a date this evenin'. She's a little lonely since I hired the new copywriter. Put some tissue under that nose and be at La Blandos at nine o'clock sharp!"

I was in the bathroom later that hour, washing my nose out under the tap. I wondered if Clarice would like my paintings, I decided I'd bring them along on our date.

I hoped she'd like my tie. It was pinstripe, I like my ties.

2009-11-01T21:42:00.003Z

thick smoke, shitty lungs
two kids at party
at corner,
one long, thin nerved out
drugged in youth

one like-so Jane
short hair, dress too

talk begets smoke,
begets cough and
choke

two kids lick lips
look, eyes,
wait for the other
to shut
the hell
up

(long kid) long enough
so maybe they might press
the old page together;
leave little, long lean kid's kiss
indents
perhaps
on the other(?)

well this
could take
all
night
long kid, listless youth
lost one too,
if this don't go through

well hey there!
(hotshot)
sighingly say
short shape
jane

when we gonna dance?
when we gonna paint?

rush in
like fools
rush out
front doors
head house
head
home together
then
alone

all because
one
all because of two
all because
three
hours of chit chit
chat

is just
a little
too
much.

Arthur Russell

2009-10-29T06:12:00.000Z

Have we talked about Arthur Russell yet, you and I?

I think maybe my love for the man and his music is a little too much to go in to right about now. Bottom line is he was way ahead of his time back when he was alive and even now as recordings and demos of his are still being unearthed he's managing to posthumously stay at least two paces ahead of contemporary artists of the same ilk, few that there are.

Definitely some one to get aquainted with if you're diggin' the "no - fi" trend that's come about as of late, or whatever really. Just check him out.

I really need to figure out how and where to start hosting music and using those nifty flash player dealies. When I get my laptop fixed I'm really going to try and expand this blog to the best of my ability. Hmm.

Mtume - You, me and he

2009-10-29T06:10:00.000Z

You, me and he is Mtume's fourth record. Its a concept album with a narrative about love, lust and infidelity that stretches out over its nine tracks. Its the sort of thing that sounds laughable on paper, and the title track's promo video does all it can to whittle the song's credibility down to a nub but casting all that aside its a pretty fucking killer record.

Some of the tracks are a little sparse even in slow jam terms and there are points where I'd really just like there to be a few more instruments thrown in the mix but aside from that it really is an untouchable album. Maybe not the danciest there is out there but definitely one to sit back, light a doob and fucking chill to.

Check it out.

Cough Cool

2009-10-25T09:56:00.003Z

Ever have one of those nights where your vomit looks like chopped raspberries? Then you drunkenly strop off home by yourself like a menstrually afflicted girl? I definitely just had one of those.

So I woke up this morning hung over and all kinds of embarassed, I figure the best cure for shame and mild if not misdirected agression is the internet coupled with copious amounts of self indulgent blogwhining.

So here goes.

Here we have Cough Cool, named after a Misfits song I wont pretend to have heard more than once. Doomy with a vaguely melodic slant, vocals come on like a gregorian chant, minimalistic lyrisicm echoing, bellowing and repeating. Instrumentation gets frantic at times but for the most part everything is very deep and foreboding but in a real simple way, mostly just organs and guitars. If only I listened to better music, Id have something wildly esoteric to compare it to.

The track Girl Tell Me sounds like a love song written in an abotoir, which by all acounts is a good thing. Watery guitars on top of haunting refrains, comes complete with Ohs and Ahs. Lovely stuff. Perfect music for those moody Sunday (or any other day of the week) morning hang overs. Theyre becoming fairly routine as of late.

Heres an obvious Misfits song I really like.

I ought to get off my ass and find something constructive to do.

Wild Nothing

2009-10-23T00:28:00.000+01:00

Back on the internet, sort of.

I fell through a roof, left my job and somewhere in between all of that my laptop broke. I need to find a way to get it fixed, I'm missing the cold glow of its screen.

Anyway, here's a cool sound I saw on Pitchfork today. Wild Nothing: Some guy from some place, real autumnal vibe, sort of like all those depressing and/or Scottish fey bands from way back when.

Could do with a better voice but everything else is sounding twinkly and ethereal enough to make up for it, not to mention there's a pretty bold cover of Cloudbusting by Kate Bush.

Oh, I had a job interview for a shop called Beyond the Valley, one of those boutique type places that sells £95 jumpers and mirrors laser cut in to the shape of a woodland animal. Real swell place up in Carnaby street - next door to the Lomography shop actually - anyway, interview went well and I have a trial shift next week Thursday, wish me fucking luck cause I litterally walked out on my job at H&M just to get to the interview itself.

Kate Bush was a babe

Toto - Georgy Porgy

2009-09-28T23:15:00.001+01:00

Oh boy, if you could just bare with me for a moment and listen to/watch all three versions of this song.

Tom Tom Club - Under The Boardwalk

2009-09-23T01:49:00.000+01:00

Have I given Tom Tom Club enough of a chance? I got an album of theirs once and Genius of love was the only song I liked. I hate when that happens.

I woke up with £30 this morning, I think im going to bed with at least £70, this is how girls in Hotters must feel. I'd love to have breasts that big and full.

Washed Out - Life of Leisure.

2009-09-21T23:12:00.004+01:00

Last night more than any other night I was anxious to finally get up and move out of home again. This afternoon I chanced upon what I'm hoping will be my new home for the next bunch of months, and I'm pretty psyched about that.

In the hours between last night and this afternoon I hooked myself up with what I'm guessing is Washed Out's second or maybe third release, Life of Leisure, and boy is it great!

It's six well crafted tracks that recklessly blur the lines between disco, new wave and modern dance music whilst managing to stayalmost completely non derivative. Each cut has something fresh and intriguing lying behind it, whether its the sombre synths and longing vocals of second track "New Theory" or the after hours sleekness and haunting soul of sixth track "Lately"; its all cut with a bright sophistication and boldness that's oft absent from a fledgling musician's earlier output.

Life of Leisure sets out in earnest to carve new sound out of old wax, it bravely sets out on its own two feet and takes you on the ride with it. That's one of the best aspects of this album and pretty the majority of the music Washed Out has made so far, listening feels like being propelled through a field of sound, I think its the way the vocals sound so distant or maybe its the way each of the songs sound in sequence, so robust and layered.

Whatever really, I'm getting a bit purple prose to be honest. The bottom line is that its refreshing to hear such a mature and fresh set of sounds and that Life of Leisure is probably one of the best EPs (or is it a mini album?) that I've listened to all year. Probably one of the best I've listened to in a good number of years, but maybe that's my honey moon ears and I'm gushing just a little too much.

Either way, if you read this then I urge you to check it out and make your own mind up. While you're at it check out a guy called Toro y Moi, I don't really know what to say about his music aside from the fact that its balls out awesome and you're a prick if you don't like it. Then check out his side project Les Sins tré tré chic disco in the dark kinda stuff, if you're picking up what I'm putting down.

Washed Out - Life of Leisure

Toro y moi - Demo

Toro y moi - Random Tracks

Les Sins

My sugar thing, my choclate star

2009-09-21T01:41:00.000+01:00

I turned twenty last week. I went out on the town and had a swell time with the guys. I also met Joe from Hot Chip, and hugged him, for a second time.

I think I'm starting to grow a beard, its somewhere between non existent and incredibly unbecoming.

Here's a youtube video or two.

moodo, foodo

2009-09-16T03:13:00.000+01:00

http://lukeramsey.blogspot.com/

Lone

2009-09-16T03:01:00.002+01:00

Summer is over, leaves are falling, I'm looking for houses I'm not sure I can afford, and I feel as though my youth is running away from me a little faster than I'd like, but at least there's guys out there like Lone. Lone is a recent signing to Werk Discs a label from Brixton I won't pretend to know anything about; he lays down lush beach party beats for tired ears to get hip and feel fresh to and it's guys like him and gems like these that keep me from becoming a completely jaded fuck.

I must have stumbled upon this cat no more than an hour ago and I'm already hooked in on it like a junkie on methadone. Its the way he mixes subtle electro jabs with Washed Out style lo fi mysticism - a wirey old funk sample here, a crisp drum beat there and soulful vocal samples (just a pinch) thrown in for good measure. A delicious audio feast of the pleasantly old and the sublimlely new. It makes me feel like I'm on one of Jupiter's moons, laying on a beach and having space joints rolled for me by cowboys from Westworld.

Really though, I'm glad there's musicians out there who can find the perfect balance between nostalgia and nouveau; this guy really wears a rich blend of influences on his sleeve but you just can't deny or ignore the freshness of his sound over all.

Whatever: less gabbin', more jams

Enjoy!
http://werkrecords.blogspot.com
http://www.myspace.com/lonemusic

BEST FUCKING FRIENDS FOREVER

2009-09-14T08:56:00.001+01:00

Our swagger is unbearable

Style council

2009-09-11T09:37:00.000+01:00

Jack, Izzie, a tree and some ducks...

2009-09-03T16:54:00.003+01:00

I need to learn how to use this (35mm holga) camera properly, everytime i use it only about four or five pictures actually get developed from the roll, i think there were pictures on this from france and a few of my cousin as well. I definitely got ripped off at the shop today as well, £10.50 or something, boy they must have seen me coming. Printed them quite big though, which I like, the two really dark ones look nice in that size...physically at least.

Anyway, these pictures are from two really nice days out we had at regents park... I hope anyone who looks at these likes them, because I quite like them, and the people in them.

ps. if you know somewhere i can get pictures developed for less than £10.50 or whatever, please tell me. I can keep a secret.

FUCK YEAH - A video mixtape

2009-09-03T09:06:00.002+01:00

Ugh, I just finished some stupid essay I had to do in order to be allowed back in to university, these songs fully represent how I feel right now. I would appreciate it if you would link me to some more super rad super manly bad ass guitar anthems for winners like me.

Kerouac

2009-09-02T21:47:00.004+01:00

I don't know who is cooler in this, the interviewer or the interviewee.

Scritti Politti

2009-09-02T05:43:00.005+01:00

When I first moved in to my old house in new cross it was a pretty odd set up. I didn't pack much initially, so all I really had with me for the first week or two were some of my clothes, some noodles and my mp3 player. No duvet, no pillow, no sheets, no money.

I slept the first night wrapped in a towel my house mate lent me, I fell asleep with my headphones on listening to Word Girl by Scritti Politti.

That night I had a nightmare about Jennifer Aniston, Rachel from friends (in this dream they were two distinctly different people) and the devil. I can't remember much but I know Satan and Jen were really scary and Rachel from friends was crying a lot. Worst part was it was all in clay-mation and the song I fell asleep to playing over and over. I woke up in a cold sweat, took my headphones off, put Haircut 100 on and then fell back to sleep again.

I love Scritti Politti.

A boy named Charlie Brown

2009-08-30T00:20:00.004+01:00

For a kids' show Charlie Brown was oddly schadenfreude, guy could hardly catch a break.

Graphik Muzik

2009-08-25T15:49:00.004+01:00

Still really obessed with Michael Allred's work. His older, darker stuff espescially. There's everything in the world to be said for impressive, bold colouring but I'm not entirely sure if anything can trump a nice b&w.
The writing here is immense too, its the contrast between the pulpy narative, the emotive dialogue from the girl in the mask and the shlocky Adam West stylings of the Cheetah character that get me the most excited about this page in particular.

Woah, mixtapes!

2009-08-19T22:42:00.008+01:00

Three years ago, I made some "mixes" and uploaded them on to the internet and forgot about them, now I'm on my old desktop and I found the old links to them!

They weren't mixes in the ultra hip dj sense of the word, more like a mix tape of the various bands and artists I was in to back then. All I really did was place the tracks next to each other in some program and try and fade them in to one another.

There were about four of them I made before I lost interest or whatever but, listening back to them now, they weren't so bad. Its interesting to look back on these and see the sort of music I was in to when I was 17. To be honest though, being 17 doesn't seem that long ago, and when you think about it, it isn't really. Seems the older I get, the shorter the years seem to last.

I still listen to most of these bands now I think, and listening back to it I get a lot of reminders of what was on my mind at the time. Fun! Have a listen.

Here's one I named grass tunnel, I think there was a lot of poppy electronic stuff on here. It had múm, thom yorke and some other bands on it:

Here's another, I think this was more post rock based. It starts off with an excerpt from a godspeed you black emperor song:

These two were the best I think, I'm listening to another one now and it has a klaxons remix on it, I don't wanna embarrass myself by posting that. If anyone actually listens to these, it'd be nice to know what people think!

i'm singing. i'm hollering. i'm singing.

2009-08-19T21:31:00.006+01:00

Cap n Jazz are a great band to come back and listen to. Youthfully bold, whimsically abstract and most of all summery! It feels good to sit out the sun and listen to Analphabetapolothology for the first time in what seems like quite a while. An energetic way to wind down my evening.

Such good song titles too, all so cute like they were part of a little kid's first real sentence. The songs can get poignant at time but its never insincere, I like that.

I think I like this song best, but I can't be sure. They're all so rad.

http://www.mediafire.com/?hyvyxm0miml - download the album here and lemme know what your favorite is

Felt - Primative Painters

2009-08-17T18:41:00.003+01:00

Heh, y'know its true what they say about you learning something new everyday! Whilst I was looking for the two Felt videos I just posted on Youtube, I found this little gem by a band from the 80s with the same name.

Recognize the female vocals at all? Its Elizabeth Fraser from The Cocteau Twins, god I love her voice. Ethereal as anything but it has some real soul to it at points. Must be where bands like Celebration get their inspiration from, and I can say without a doubt that Dave Sitek takes a great deal of influence from The Cocteau Twins production and composition style.

Oh! music was so exciting twenty years ago! I guess it still is!

Felt - Protagonists

2009-08-17T18:16:00.005+01:00

I swear to god some of the music I was listening to back in year 11 was so much better than some of the stuff I've been listening to of late. Point in case (or is that case in point?) is Felt. I used to listen to Tribute to Lisa Bonet during lunch times in the library.

Felt is a collaboration between Slug from Atmosphere and MURS from Living Legends. Murs was the guy rapping on that Busy P track, serve and entertain or whatever it was called.
Felt had two pretty good albums called Tribute to Christina Ricci and Tribute to Lisa Bonet. Lisa Bonet was the daughter from the Cosby Show.

Anyway, I was on twitter today and it turns out they've got a third album coming out called Tribute to Sarah Palin, or at least that's what MF DOOM says.

Here's a track from it. Protagonists It's pretty good, quite drum heavy, not really saying much on the sampling front. I dunno, it doesn't strike me as anything special, I just remember the production on the other albums being a lot less polished and just a little funkier.

This was one of my favourite tracks off of Lisa Bonet.

Here's another.

I hope you can see what I mean. This stuff is just a lot more soulful and chilled out. Perfect for a summer's day. Actually I definitely remember listening to this during the summer.

Speaking of which,its fucking hot here so I'm sat at home in my boxers, nice.

Winsor McCay - Rob Liefeld

2009-08-17T08:00:00.000+01:00

Interestingly enough, these strips were produced in the early 1900's. I find that surprising some how, especially in the second image. Something about its style and humor just seem so contemporary. Both strips are incredibly striking, the dream like nature of the first is almost frightening - the way that elephant gets closer and closer in those last six panels. Incredible sequencing and use of space within the panels, not to mention the elephant just looks balls out insane.

Alan Moore paid homage to McCay and his "Little Nemo..." strip in a series he did a while back called Promethea, I've never checked it out. I should do, its apparently very esoteric. I'm not sure if I think this is a good or a bad thing when it comes to comics.

Hmm, can't wait till I start work, got so much stuff to buy!

Little Nemo in Slumberland - 1905 to 1914

Little Sammy Sneeze - 1904 to 1906

Promethea 1999 - 2005

Also...

This guy is Rob Liefeld, (he created the character Deadpool who recently showed up in the Wolverine Origins flick) he's considered by a lot of people now days, myself included, to be one of the worst artists in the modern comic books industry, but in a lot of ways he's definitely a large part of comic book history. He shot to fame in the 90s and was one of the catalysts of the boom the comics industry experienced over the course of the decade, the source of a lot of controversy and the recipient of a lot of criticism and out right abuse. It's all a bit boring to go in to really, but the crux of it all is that his art and writing are pretty terrible and he helped popularize the gritty, angsty, hyper violent, hyper visceral, hyper sexual style that became extremely popular in the 90s.

Its his absolute lack knowledge regarding the human anatomy that gained him the majority of his criticism.

All of that said, one reason I can never really fault the guy is that you can just tell all he absolutely loves the medium. The way his eyes light up when the interviewer starts name dropping Daredevil and the Silver Surfer, you can tell that he's just a big goof who loves that he's able to write for the company whose output he grew up reading. I think its that level of devotion to it that got him his big break and that keeps him somewhat popular to this day.

Here's a video of him and Todd McFarlane (creator of Spawn) goofing around with Stan Lee. I just couldn't stop laughing at this. I can't tell if Stan's making fun of them or not.

Baby

2009-08-16T01:54:00.010+01:00

I think this is the first single off of Ghostface Killah's forthcoming album "The Wizard of poetry."

I've only listened to a couple of the guy's tracks before this, but never the less, I'm immediately impressed by this. I definitely need to check out more stuff like this. Apparently its his last album on Def Jam Records and its gonna have a couple guest shots from R&B starlets like John Legend, Estelle and others I'm far too suburban to have heard of.

Recently my music library has been kind of stale, mainly because I don't have a proper internet connection where I'm living at the moment, I really need something new to obsess over. Perhaps this album could be it.

Before I moved out I was really interested in an American duo The Drums; they're two guys currently working together in New York and they've got a slightly convoluted musical history - but don't all the best bands?

Once upon a time there was a band called Elkland who were sort of like 80s power pop revival, think Chesney Hawks or Limahl, but slightly cooler and a little more camp. Anyway, that band were making waves for a while over in the states and were even on Columbia Records for a while. They even supported Erasure apparently.

Apart, I think this was the only single off of their 2005 debut "Golden", it's not an especially great release.

Well, when they disbanded, lead singer Jon Pierce went on to form Goat Explosion with multi - instrumentalist and childhood friend Jacob Graham. GE had a similar sound to the aformentioned Elkland but with much more organic synths and considerably less produced, lo fi sound...but it was still pretty camp. I discovered Goat Explosion by accident a while ago but by that time they'd disbanded (I heard rumors about an argument between the two involving some girl) and Jacob had gone on to form a bunch of new wave style bands - namely flashlight party (who I loved) and later on Horse Shoes. Both of these were pretty similar to New Order, Orchestral manouveurs in the dark and other groups of that ilk. Layered synthesizers, ghostly vocals and a whole lot of wintery meloncholy. Generally my kinda jam.

Here's a link to their last ep, Wreaths_

Anyway, later on down the line, two old friends reunited and have now formed The Drums, and they seem to be whipping up quite a storm. They've got a nice stripped down kinda sound that wears its post punk influences on its sleave, they come complete with holow basslines, wirey guitars and a few synth stabs wherever needed. Its Jon's vocals and the lyrical content that add the most unique and intriguing layer to their sound - Songs about surfing, roller coasters and young love in the summer time delivered in a soothing and innocent croon almost make me feel like I'm watching Stand by me or watching The Wonder Years. Not to mention, there's slightly less than consipicuous Phil Spector influence on the production front! Are we looking at the first post punk / doo wop / teen idol cross over band, and if so, do what do we call it?! Post Idol? Punk Wop? New Doo?

Oh and did I mention how handsome they all were? Its like Abercrombie and Fitch meets Domino Records!

Let's Go Surfing is their current single and its making waves (HAHA!) in the blogosphere and the real world alike. I think I heard in an interview that their ep is being released in the UK by Moshi Moshi records.
Here's their myspace - www.myspace.com/thedrumsforever - listen to "I Felt Stupid" and download the Lets Go Surfing maxi single for free.

Boffo!

Oh! Check out my friend Johanna's blog, I can't read french so it makes absolutely no sense to me, but there's loads of cute pictures of her and her ludicrously chic looking friends. Aside from that, I can't really vouch for the written portion of the content. But hey, its nice to look at pictures right? I sure think so.

http://wersindsie.blogspot.com/

Look what I did!

2009-08-15T01:54:00.003+01:00

More of my pictures from Paris.

There was such a long period of time between me taking these and then actually scanning them in to my computer. I quite like all of these photos, they remind me of the fun time I had. I must have used about 4 rolls of film that week I was in Paris but there were two problems that arose:

I don't know shit about how to a camera correctly, much less a camera that didn't come with instructions and another that didn't really have a correct way to be used. I had a real hard time winding up the rolls when I finished with them and ended up scratching and exposing at least half of two rolls of films. I also had no idea who to use the focus or whatever properly so there were a lot of pictures that looked as though I had just smeared Vaseline over the lenses.

The second problem was that I spent about two or three days taking pictures with a camera that had no film in it at all, I just assumed I'd put some in there before I'd left London and it wasn't until about I was about done checking one of the galleries near the Eiffel that I finally realized my mistake.

Ha, what an unlucky pup!

Anyway, that was my first real experience using a camera (film or otherwise) as anything more than a means of taking pictures of myself, and to be frank, I was quite impressed with the outcome. I have about three film cameras in my possession and I'm going to try and make a point to use them more.

It's always nice to document all that fun I'm supposed to be having.

I changed the layout and look of the blog and deleted a lot of posts, I'm going to try and actually post things of interest on it as opposed to just whining about things.

Lets see how that goes!

try a little tenderness

2009-08-08T04:52:00.003+01:00

John Hughes died the other day.

I'm not espescially mournful, because I never really understood how people could genuinely mourn the death of a celebrity (i just don't think they're "real people"), but I've got to say that most of the films this man had an involvment with - from Pretty in Pink and Breakfast Club to Uncle Buck and Home Alone - have had an effect on me in one way or another. From my undying, sometimes self destructive infatuation with all things red headed, to the music I listen to and to my preoccupation with nostalgic iconography.

The guy really captured an era at its best and because of that there's really no way I, or many people really can look at the 80s without some sense of glittery eyed nostalgia. There's a lot to be said for that.

Teen films now days really don't come close in regards to encapsulating an era like Hughes did, I don't think anyone is going to look back at films like American Pie or Road Trip or whatever as great signifiers of a generation, everything about the majority of teen rom coms made within the last ten or so years has already aged so poorly and just seems dated, fashionless and uncool.

Our children will not be talking about how beautiful Mellisa Joan Hart was in You Drive Me Crazy, nor will they be trawling vintage shops of the future looking for a pair of baggy canary yellow khakis just like the ones that Freddy Prinz Jnr wore in She's All That.

Hughes had a real timeless quality to his film making, something thats hard to find in mainstream film these days. Few films made for mass consumption are able to recreate the kind of charm and sincerity his films brimmed with.

Having said all that bullshit, the guy wrote Maid in Manhattan, Behtoven's Third, Home Alone 3 and Drillbit Taylor (he did that under a different name actually) so much like goo'sd ol' Wacko Jacko its best if you pretend he already died five or six years ago.

here's hoping that bill murray, michael j fox, joe dante, prince or hot chip don't die any time soon.

Meurgghhhhhhhhh

2009-08-06T14:53:00.002+01:00

woodsman, raise your axe

dis heat

2009-06-30T15:01:00.005+01:00

Beautiful girl gets on the bus and sits in front of me. I put my nose in a book to avoid staring at her, not much of what's written on the page leaps out at me, its like substituting roast dinners for happy meals. I turn to look out the window. I see a guy throwing up on the New Kent Road. Throwing up in god's honest daylight, then walking away as if it never happened. Heaven help me, I didn't know where to look.
We live in a world of juxtapositions and abstractions. Summer heat makes a man go crazy.

Her and I, and the mountain

2009-06-17T02:32:00.003+01:00

I said all these fancy things, and they were meant to come out like a joke. Like I'm being charming, like I'm impressive, like I'm an interesting human being.

It all sounded like bullshit from her end. Can't say I blame her.

Over time I began to realize that I'd built the whole thing up like Everest or something. I set up base camp upon tales of an awkward boyhood and poorly delivered compliments. I dreamed of escalating up high towards trite physicality, two hands touching with the safety turned off and reaching that ice cold peak. The shortness of breath that'll surely come with being at such a high altitude and the pace at which I'll have to move.

A mouse makes its way across bedroom floor as we talk, I hope she doesn't notice.

We spin some more yarn and I'm dreadfully aware of the cadence of my voice, all too concious about the way my words fall out. I chase her eyes a little as the gaze trails away from me. Interest fades a little, then flickers out like a light.

I hear a spring click back in to place and a mouse trap flip over. We get up and leave, I tell myself better luck next time.

love me

2009-06-15T01:57:00.001+01:00

Weirdest dream

2009-06-13T12:02:00.002+01:00

I think it was in two or three parts. In one part I was living in a country ran by a fascist dictator ship and about 14 years old. I don't really want to go in to it too much but basically we had to try and save the world with a hammer in a box and a roll of barcodes printed on paper. We ended up saving the world, but lost sight of our cause and tried to kill a bunch of rich kids.

In the other dream I was living in halls and there was this girl I kept seeing everywhere just by chance, eventually her and her friends confronted me and accused me of stalking her, which wasn't true. They said a lot of cruel things and refused to give back a comic I'd left there or something...so I beat them all to death and tried to leave the country. It was weird because it was someone I knew and I kept thinking the whole thing was real for a bit and being really quite worried about what the repercussions would be.

When I woke up I was pretty relieved I hadn't killed anyone.

I was looking for a job and then I found a job,

2009-06-11T04:15:00.002+01:00

yeah i felt like henry chinaski walking through the rain like a fucking chump in a puke green, however i think by the end of it all i'll not only be rich but impervious to all forms of rejection. gonna try and join a temping agency also

i think it will give me things to talk about

2009-06-08T00:31:00.001+01:00

Well, I had a dream I cut my hair and spent hours looking at it in the mirror.

Hey!

2009-06-05T19:47:00.002+01:00

Nah, really though, it'd be nice if someone came up to me in the street and said:

"Hey Charles, it's my fault you're no good at the things you're no good at, sorry! Here's a special device that'll get rid of all your worst character traits and replace them with new awesome ones, also you'll be taller and able to play the piano."

Boy that'd be awesome!

Ugh

2009-06-05T11:02:00.005+01:00

I dreamed that I called every girl I'd ever liked an had an awkward interaction with, which is to say every girl I've liked or been in some way romantically involved and had embarrassed or made a fool of myself in front of. Which is to say, a lot of girls that thought/knew I was a prize chump.

I dreamed that I'd called 'em all up and that they'd forgotten who I was because they'd deleted my number from their phones. I asked them all the same thing:

"My house mate's having a club night at blah blah blah, was just wondering if you'd like to come?"

Weird thing is, they didn't say no or spurn my advances outright, they just stayed on the line in silence for a good long time until I hung up in shame and embarrassment.

Weird, eh?

Sleeping giants that won't come to

2009-06-01T01:10:00.005+01:00

Scoring.

So, we're sitting on my sofa and we've been talking for a while, but I run out of shit to say. I can see her attention slipping away from me. For the little its worth I try to breathe some life in to the situation. I start off easy with some generic spiel about how hot it's been these last couple of nights,

"Weather's something else these days, doncha think?"

She takes the bait, we're both boring the fuck out of each other, but things could be worse. For a while we chit and chat about the clothes she plans to buy this summer. She gabs and I listen, watching her lips move. They purse and they pout from time to time, I get a couple glimpses at her teeth, they're in good shape.

When I think she isn't watching, I look her up and down like a judge at a dog show (believe me, the analogy fits) I ask where her dress is from, I don't really care but its a tight dress and I'm in dire straights over here. Trying to talk up my big lie a little more I attempt to lure it all in with some light humour and some trademark self depreciation. I laugh a little at my own sorry jokes, she feigns the same but neither of us are fooling anyone.

Still on the subject of summertime and how humid it's been, I pull out one of my classic deal breakers:

"Yeah, no, Tell me about it! I fell asleep in the clothes I wore last night and I woke up soaked! At first I thought I'd pissed myself but it was just sweat. Y'know. Hah!"

"Oh, right, haha"

I'm a lot funnier than this usually, not that she'll ever care to know. Really though, I'm a laugh riot. Really. Anyway, a wave of silence hits us and I know we're both spent.

"Yeah, I guess I sweat a lot."

"Right, yeah."

"So uh..."

I know that she knows I'm pathetic as shit but I figure I'll take one last swing at the bat, maybe peddle off some anecdote about the last time I got high, but She makes some sort of excuse and gets out of it. I say it aint a problem, tell her I'll see her around, pretend to check my phone like I'm waiting for someone better to turn up.

"Nice meeting you too."

I spend a moment or two wondering what I'll beat off to tonight. I head to my room and move my hand around for while then fall asleep.

Fin.

Space and time are scary.

2009-05-30T02:44:00.002+01:00

hungry + angry

2009-05-27T00:11:00.002+01:00

2009-05-22T01:26:00.002+01:00

John Wayne Gacy, Jr. (March 17, 1942 – May 10, 1994) was an American serial killer. He was convicted and later executed for the rape and murder of 33 boys and young men between 1972 and his arrest in 1978, 27 of whom he buried in a crawl space under the floor of his house, while others were found in nearby rivers. He became notorious as the "Killer Clown" because of the many block parties he threw for his friends and neighbors, entertaining children in a clown suit and makeup, under the name of "Pogo the Clown".

Nice painting though.

I'll show you "the life of the mind"

2009-05-18T18:32:00.004+01:00

2009-05-18T12:19:00.001+01:00

Today I dreamt about buying comics, I was at a carboot sale or something and I said to some old lady "Are those this Wednesdays comics?" She said no and then I found some.
Before that I was in the British Library, which had moved to Thamesmead

2009-05-16T16:43:00.000+01:00

I think I had a dream where my old manager from UO tried to kill me.

2009-05-06T14:52:00.005+01:00

Long over due.

2009-05-05T16:48:00.002+01:00

I got back from Paris on Saturday night I think.
I had a great time out there and saw some pretty awesome things, places and people. Obviously I was only there for a week so there was only so much I could do but I think I made the most of it as best as I could.

I checked out this really awesome place near the Eiffel called the Palais de Tokyo, which is where the pictures from the entry I made last week are from.

There was this one installation that was basically a room with some copper sheets and wires above you and a generator in the middle of the room or something (memory is mad cloudy), you have to sign some sort of release form when you enter the room or something which made it pretty scary. So anyway, you're in this room and suddenly you can literally feel the static electricity all over you, the person I was with's hair started to stand on end and my jaw really really really hurt. It was absolutely intense and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day.

Later on that night I went to a place called Pigalle to watch Jeremy Warmsley and some band from Canada play at a house, I thought it was going to be your typical warehouse/squat type set up and that it would just be some run down place some people rented out to musicians or whatever, but it was this absoloutely gorgeous flat in some swanky gated residence. Django Reindhart had lived in the residence and Jean Paul Gautier lived across the way from the flat I was in. Fucking nuts!

The performances were actually being recorded by http://www.blogotheque.net/ as part of their Take Away Shows thing, so that was really awesome to be a part of. I spoke to one of the main directors/cameraman/sound guy and he was a really awesome guy. Everyone was really, it was like some sort of dinner party/house show thing, I was loving the whole thing.

I developed a bunch of pictures today and a bunch whilst I was out there and to be fair they're mostly pretty shitty, and over half of them were exposed by accident (twice), but there's a few gems up in there I'd say, so I'm gonna get a couple scanned and put them somewhere.

I went to uni today, for the first time in maybe a month or maybe two months, it was actually really good. Really intense lecture and a really intense lecturer. Sort of makes me wish I hadn't pissed away the last months sitting in bed all day doing nothing, but not enough to actually stop me from sitting in bed all day doing nothing.

there is a world waiting for us to live in it

2009-04-29T23:53:00.003+01:00

Today was fucking boss. A bunch of cool shit went down. Too tired to summarise it all, so I'm just gonna go to sleep.

Here's a funny thing though, I brought two cameras with me, didn't realise until today that one of them didn't have any film in and I'd been taking pictures with it since I got here.

Ha ha. x

Hello everybody

2009-04-28T21:10:00.002+01:00

I didn't really do much today, or yesterday for that matter but I had some really nice, long and satisfying walks around the city.

Checked out an exhibition at the fondation cartier that was really great. Upstairs were these pieces by this Brazilian artist called Beatriz Milhazes. I don't pretend to know much about art but what I liked a lot about them was that at times the pieces seemed to be really quite abstract explosions of simple circular shapes and bright colours, but the circular shapes and paterns would start to instersect like a ven diagram and the overlaps of colour would look like flowers or something. Sort of like a kalidescope maybe?

That's what it looked like to me anyway! The pieces were huge and really quite awesome to look at but also quite easy to take in and easy to relate to. The gallery commisioned two installations from her which covered two seperate walls of the glass building, its a shame the weather was so horendously muggy, I would have liked to have seen what they would have looked like from the inside of the gallery with the sun hitting the glass walls (the paintings on the walls were semi transparent)

Downstairs were these photographs by this American guy named William Eggleston. Jack highly recomended it to me and it was really awesome. William Eggleston was commisioned by the gallery to do a series of photographs of Paris, and I think the commision is still on going. There were three years worth of photographs, and a quite a few abstract sketches and paintings to accompany many of them.

The photos were excellent, I thought he really manged to create/capture something that was alluring, romantic and at times quite dark about Paris, and I guess cities in general. What I liked espescially was that each of the photographs looked like they could be a little snippet of a short story or a still from a film. Sort of inspiring in the way that everyday city life inspires people to create something out of nothing.

Whatever, enough navel gazing.

I spent a lot of time drinking outside the Pompidou and walking around St. Paul, took a peak in a couple of vintage shops and boutiques as well. It rained a lot but I didn't really mind, places always look nice just after its rained and the sun shines off of the pavements and buildings. And paris has some fucking gorgeous pavements (ha) and buildings.

Tomorrow I'll see a band and maybe check out the eifel. xx

Boom, there she was

2009-04-27T09:22:00.003+01:00

Ah! So here I am at Cleo's house just outside of Paris, chilling for the moment as I had to get up at eight or something this morning because Cleo had to give me directions and junk before she went to school.

Plans for today are to meet a friend later on in the evening at Chatelet station, but in the mean time I'm gonna head over the Oberkampf, which is where I stayed last summer, check out the Pompideu(?) for a bit, relax a little, check out some vintage shop I heard was near by and then if I've got time before meeting the aformentioned friend check out this awesome sounding exhibition at the Fondation Cartier.

Should be pretty fucking cash.

Yesterday I didn't do much at all, got a little tour around Cleo's town, Créteil. Hung out near the Orsay with a friend of her's and checked out this pretty cool second hand shop which had loads of records, video tapes and old books. Found a letter in one of them actually, but once translated from french it was one of the dullest corresponances I'd read in a while.

Find of the day was a really fucking old (1926!) copy of The Tempest. Only 80 cents.

Gotta go easy on the money actually.

And just like that a millipide walks across my bedroom floor.

2009-04-26T05:06:00.003+01:00

Beatniks were the only good hipsters.

I'm up now and have been for hours, I went out yesterday with a friend for drinks in the sun and all that summer time malarkey, it was good, great even, but spending the day solidly drinking had tuckered me about a real treat and as soon as I got home, I immediately hit the big grey sack.

Up and refreshed now though and like I say, have been up for a while doing absolutely nothing actually. Barely even packed, barely even thought about any of this little trip, and every time I tried to devote a little bit of grey matter to the endeavour I felt a little sick and a little nervous...but I guess that's the nature of unaffordable, romantic excursions for one. The more you think about it, the closer you find yourself to heart palpitations and the Big Bad Breakdowns.

Probably best for everyone involved if I don't think about it until I get there.

I'm staying with a friend Cleo, who we met when we went to Paris last year, right before we climbed the Bercy fucking stadium. Hoo boy.
My plan is to hang out a little, walk around, bike around, take in the sights, maybe hit a night spot or two and definitely take as many pictures as I can, write as much as I can and get as soused as possible whenever possible.

I'll be another guy for a week, walk around with a cigerette in the corner of my mouth at all times, maybe improve my posture and breathe better too. Let my booze do the talking for me and forget about embarrased walks home at three o'clock in the morning, rat traps, rent payments and the world in general. For a week.

But that's a whole other story.

Paris

2009-04-25T22:01:00.001+01:00

Tomorrow/

Mostly, I'm silent.

2009-04-24T16:26:00.006+01:00

It must sound like I'm full of shit when I talk about the few trivial things that I'm interested in, but it surprises even me just how much I''m motivated, inspired and sometimes even moved by films, comic books and music.

A fresh new student loan came in this week and against my better judgement I hopped on the good foot and did the bad thing and splashed out on a couple trades.

Mike Allred's Madman is pretty much one of the best comic book series I've ever read. It's basically about this guy whose dead body is found and brought back to life by two kooky scientists. He has no memory of who he was before he died, but it's discovered that he has latent psychic abilities that are activated when he touches certain people, and he's also inhumanly strong, fast and agile.

As a result of this he learns things at a very advanced rate, and the scientists who gave him life primarily as an experiment grow closer and closer to him, becoming his best (and at first only) friends and father figures. They name him Frank Einstein after their two personal heroes, Frank Sinatra and Albert Einstein and they promise to help him uncover the true nature of his death and who he was before he died in exchange for his help with various scientific experiments and endeavours.

Before any of this can be done however, one of the scientists is killed by some secret shady organisation and thus begins the adventures of The Madman of Snap City. Along the way, he falls in love with a girl called Joe Lombard who works in the office next door to his. Lots of insane, absolutely balls out crazy shit happens to Frank as the series progresses and the best thing about it all is how the writer and artist Mike Allred manages to take existentialism, romance, science fiction and adventure and present it all as this light hearted, yet incredibly esoteric adventure story.

Part of its charm lies in the art, which is heavily influenced by Lichtenstein, Jack Kirby and Pop Art and the 60s in general; Mike inks the whole thing whilst his wife Laura does the colours and she really does compliment his style so well with her use of bold, stand out colours which get more and more intricate, psychedelic and all together breath taking as the series goes on.

Not just that but the writing and the stories themselves really are something incredible; Allred somehow manages to delve in to some pretty insane realms of story telling and narrative, all the while maintaining this incredibly hip and sassy 60s-silverage-beatnik vibe to it. There's intrigue, mystery, drama and a whole lot of questions about existence that we all find ourselves asking, but its all done in this incredibly easy to digest format. The creation of story arcs is so subtle that you're almost fooled in to thinking that each story is self contained.

The romance element is also pretty amazing too, in the sense that you can tell it comes from a really genuine and loving place in the writer's heart. Generally comic book romances can seem a little tacked on, and for the most part they really are. It's very rare that you get two believably in love characters in a super hero comic espescially.

There was one issue I was reading yesterday night actually where Madman/Frank is accused of murder and as he's in the middle of some weird fight with a circus freak he has an internal monolgoue where he starts questioning the nature of good and evil, whether such a thing as a God could exist in a world where atrocities happen every day, and if there would be any point existing in a world where we didn't have evil, because then we wouldn't able to appreciate what was good in the world.

Obviously he doesn't really reach a conclusion on that matter in particular but he reconciles it within himself by ultimately deciding that, if he did live forever in a world without good, or better yet a world without evil, so long as he was with Joe, forever wouldn't really be long enough...Corny as hell, but cute none the less.

There's also an incident where Frank finds himself lost in a bunch of weird false realities he's created and has to find his way back to the real world, and back to Joe. He and his robot clone Astroman (I know, right?) are struggling to find their way back home, talking even more philosophical psychobable and talking about the history of his existence. The best thing about this story was that, in each individual panel Allred would draw in a completely different style and each style was a homage to a different artist or era in comic book history.

The guy manages to pay homages to Popeye, Richey Rich and Casper the friendly ghost, Where the wild things are, Jack Kirby's fourth world and a whole bunch of other shit I didn't get in the space of a page or two. It was pretty much a crash course in philosophy and the history of illustration done in less than ten pages. Pretty incredible if you're in to that sort of thing.

So yeah, head out and buy everything you can find by Mike Allred, or anything featuring Madman. It all sounds dumb as hell but some how it just fucking works. What's best is that pretty much every big name in comics loves this fucking guy.

Hundreds of neck beareded geeks can't be wrong, can they?

2009-04-18T03:44:00.000+01:00

1. I didn't mean to turn you on - Cherrelle

2. Burnin' Up - Michael Jonzun

3. Midas touch - Midnight Star

4. Is It Love? - Gang of Four

5. Slow Dancin' - Chaka Khan

6. Love Come Down - Evelyn "Champagne" King

7. Candy - Cameo

8. Lady Cab Driver - Prince

9. Why Should I love you? - Kate Bush ft. Prince

10. What You Won't Do For Love - Bobby Caldwell

11. Boat Party - Haircut 100

http://www.mediafire.com/?myj1lkivptx

Be still my beating heart

2009-04-11T17:56:00.000+01:00

http://www.myspace.com/penspenspenis

The one in the middle is my favourite.

The end of a short I wrote for my creative writing coursework

2009-03-21T23:27:00.000Z

Its day break and my sandpaper mouth and I have found ourselves waking up in the company of strangers. Faces that look as haggard as I feel glance up at me discerningly before falling back on to pillows and empty patches of kitchen floor; I guess that’s my cue to leave and lord knows I’m going to take it.

Grimacing all the way, I pull myself up off of the sofa I was lucky enough to have passed out in, make my way over to front door and from there to the bus stop. I light a cigarette my mouth is far too dry to smoke and I sit and wait for the bus to pull up and take me away from the ghost of last night and in to the warmth and comfort of my own bed and the familiar solitude of my own bitter company.

A man sat next to me smiles a little as I choke and cough on my own cigarette smoke, I’m not entirely sure if I feign one back or not but I sure as hell know that I’ve never felt less inclined to smile back at anyone in my entire life.

It’s the long and depressing ride home that hits me the hardest, leaving me with nothing to do but think about my life and how sour things have gotten for me as of late, and how sour I’ve made things for just about everyone I’ve come in to contact within the last six or so months.
As far away from happiness as I’ve ever been, I place my pounding little head against the window and draw little lowercase X’s in the condensation.

I cast my mind back to the night before: drinks too tall, anecdotes half slurred, half spat, the argument Sara and I had for what must have been the seventh time that week and the harsh exchange of bitter truths and threats that don’t sound as empty as they did three weeks ago.

“I’m telling you now; I have had it up to here with you and your self deprecating bullshit!”

“Oh, yeah? Like I have time to deal with you and your absolute refusal to at least flirt with the idea of looking at the bigger picture; what is it you do when you’re not busy thinking about yourself?”

Bitter put downs and snide remarks trailed off in to the ether...

And that was just the bus ride from my house to wherever the hell that party was.
Funny thing is; I can’t for the life of me figure out who was in the wrong back there, nor can I understand why it is the two of us are only ever happy when it’s at the other’s expense.

It’s a life lead in the dark with one hand constantly hovering over the self destruct button, the best and the most I can do about any of this is –

My phone rings and I lose my train of thought. It’s my mother of course and for a moment I debate as to whether or not I should take the call or fall asleep.

I choose the latter

How about....

2009-03-20T21:07:00.001Z

These are some pictures my ex girlfriend sent to me a while ago. Her dad drew them I think. He studied history at cambridge or oxford and now he's a builder. Strange.

2009-03-03T02:16:00.002Z

Let me tell you about radical ghosts,little boys with sheets over their heads

Listen i never said that i wasn't afraid of whatever it is im not supposed to be afraid of, and those radical ghosts have been chasing me up all night,
little spooks why'd you bother me so?
im just a man with an itch and conscience painted all blue and black, thats the color of guilt

oh it wasn't my fault that the gallows didn't break
it was never my intention, no, i never really meant...
oh god its just that the hang man had been calling all day and all night

what's a boy to do when he's in such high demand?
its just so rare, you know?
but whatever little spooks
you want a dead man screaming? well i'll give you fuckers this:

hold a sheet, hold a hand, hold a bag over your head
and just keep talking, we'll see where it gets you.

boo.

2009-03-02T23:38:00.003Z

seeing semi literate shit like this pop up on my facebook feeds page every now and then slightly makes up for the five years of torture that was secondary school.

look at these faggots, he spelt come like cum, doesn't he know how gay that is!?

none of what they've typed is ironic either.

ffffff

Uh, here's some music I wish i'd made: www.myspace.com/iamsorrydarling

Jawbreaker

2009-03-02T22:14:00.004Z

at new years, towards the end of the night before we were leaving, we were all sat in some girls room sort of coming down and just waiting to get kicked out. i was listening to 24 hour revenge therapy by jawbreaker. i dont think i can listen to certain songs on this album without pretending i'm Blake Schwarzenbach.

ashtray monument came on and i was sort of drumming my thighs without really realising it, i was really going for it and i guess it looked stupid 'cause some people saw and started laughing.

i said to them though, i said i was just listening to some music. they apologised for laughing, and laughed a little more hahaha, i guess i kinda did look stupid.

but, if they knew i was listening to jawbreaker they'd understand completely.

anyway, click the picture and download 24 revenge therapy. listen to songs like "ache", "ashtray monument" and "condition, Oakland"; despite the faggy names, they're all pretty great new years day comedown songs, hell, they're great songs for any sort of day.

see for yourself if you'd drum yourself into mild embarassment listening to this album.

no parkin' on the dancefloor

2009-02-28T19:36:00.002Z

Yes um.
Went to see fourtet dj at plastic people last night, was pretty enjoyable actually.

I went for a cigarette at one point and had to go to the off license and buy some, whilst I was there a bunch of girls that live at Ewen Henderson who I barely know and have never really interacted with before started laughing at me, the ugliest one there said "what's he doing here?!" she laughed for ages and I was like "uh, hello?" she said something else I can't remember but it was snide.

Not really all that bothered outside of the fact that these chicks were a bunch of dorks, skanks and try hard entry level hipster types. Its no good being laughed at by a bunch of walking fashion faux-pas! They were a bunch of jane's from backwater shit holes about to go do their first line of K at some wack East London warehouse party.

Outside of that the night was really fun, I saw Joe from Hot Chip on the dance floor and proceeded to tell him exactly how much I love Hot Chip (I seriously fucking love hot chip) he seemed genuinely touched and he gave me a hug.

Nicest hug I ever got it was so warm and soft.

How many of those skanks ever got hugged by Joe from Hot Chip? None that's how many.

It was a clean cock tease

2009-02-24T05:12:00.002Z

I kinda always wanted to make films about awkward romances that go nowhere, or the bitter sweet nuances of the lives of strangers, or about young outsiders adjusting to a world that was never made with them in mind.

Fuck that shit.

If I don't write a screen play with the line "it was a clean cock-tease" or that doesn't star Bill Murray as a jittery care taker, and a young Patrick Dempsey as an awkward virgin who, with the help of the ghost of a dead porn star loses his virginity whilst working a summer job at a run down marina, I'll have basically failed at life.

what

2009-02-22T03:08:00.000Z

it feels like meeting an old friend for the first time.

Evelyn "Champagne" King

2009-02-12T00:45:00.003Z

The last issue of a comic book I really liked came out this month and it sucked, the plot threads from the previous issues weren't picked up at all and nothing really happened, some aliens fought some other aliens, died in the process, but got cloned by an alien and brought back to life, and then the alien brought his dead girlfriend back to life.

Whatever it had a wrap-around cover.

I saw a counsellor at uni on Tuesday, it was allright man, I see her six more times before the term ends and then I have to fill out this thing to see if I feel better about whatever it is I don't feel good about.

After that I checked out an exhibition two of my friends had at uni (which was trashed when I saw it today actually), hung out with Sasha and watched some tv then made my way to the Roxy where I was meeting house mates & co for booze and good times.

That's where the fun begins:

So I'm at elephant and castle underground station sitting down minding my own business, and this fairly gorgeous character is sat down two a seat away from me. No biggie, right? I'll do the whole awkward look-at-her-when-she's-not-looking-try-to-seem-like-I-see-hot-babes-within-two-feet-of-me-all-the-time-read-a-boook-so-i-seem-aloof thing but it doesn't work cause I swear I catch her looking at me out of the corner of my eye!

Gah, whatever! So by now I'm feeling fairly uncomfortable and like I might make a fool out of myself some how so I get up and stand on the platform as the train aproaches.

Simple shit, right? No.

Train is here, we're both stood in front of the first and last doors of two different carriages, meaning I won't have to freak myself out by thinking too much about not staring at this person, and they won't be freaked out by me staring at them. Door slides open, neither of us move. Sort of like we're anticipating the other's next step.
I move towards one door, but so so does she, so she moves towards the other, but then so do I! Ffffuck, no idea what's going on, its like when you walk in to someone on the road and you try to get out of each other's way but you keep shuffling to the same side. What a bother.

Anyway, we some how manage to get on the train, different carriages, sitting facing opposing directions and all that but the thing is...neither of us moved that far down the carriage, and the window is right there. SO I keep looking to see if she's still on the train, I guess just out of curiosity, whatever she was an interesting looking type and I guess she does the same to see if I'm still looking.

Train keeps moving, moving, moving, moving, moving, and I'm listening to Lifetime or something to take my mind off the whole ordeal. I look down to her carriage, I don't see anything where she was sitting, she's gone or something or got up and moved. Phew!
Not really, she was only leaning back in to her seat and as I'm innocently staring at what I thought was an empty seat, she jolts foward and sees me looking! Fuck. Damn.

Here's the kicker though, really, this person has one of the least expressive faces ever - like we're playing a game of poker or something, she's not giving a damn thing away, so at this point, as pathetic as it may sound to any sane, well adjusted, romanticly inclined, experienced and succint person; I just wasn't sure exactly where this was going, maybe this was some coy form of flirtation? Right? Like out of a chick lit book or one of those art house films where two awkward losers get it together and fuck relentlessly? Coulda been right? Coulda been...

SO I get to my stop, finally. Things seem fairly okay right until I see her get off at the same stop, but it's cool because she's infront and I'll just walk behind these two slow guys in front of me so that there ends up being more distance between me and this stranger I've been half stalking for the last fifteen or so minutes.

Not that simple.

Turns out we're both headed towards the central line, uh, not my fault, okay? I'm a normal human being. I don't have any control over the comings and goings of attractive European looking girls who could probably be about my age give or take a year or two and has* an interesting hair style and colour. It's just out of my hands, act of God. Premiums wouldn't cover it. ffffuck.

So I'm walking down the tunnel, she's in front, ahead. I'm walking towards the stair well, she's ahead, not a great amount of distance, but enough. We're on the stairs, someones having a hard time with their bags, slows us both down, we're close. Too Close. I'm walking towards the top of the stairs, eyes down, watching my steps, trying to not to pay attention to a single thing. Jersey's Best Dancers is about halfway through and I'm thinking about what I'll play next on my iPod. All is good, I guess.

Get to the top of the stairs. Don't really pay attention to anything, but I see the girl sort of half hesittently step in the direction of the opposite platform to me. Fuck yeah, I'm safe! I don't really pay attention to anything, just sort of move further down the platform. Turn around for a second, she's there, right behind me, still walking. Platform is pretty dead by the way, so, I mean she could have stopped walking at any point and taken a seat far away from me. I think about the look on my face when I looked back just then, I felt pretty pissed off, so it must have been a pretty pissed off look I gave her. I know she saw it cause she looked right fucking at me when I looked back. Goddamn.

Train comes, thank god. Carriages crowded, I walk further down, she doesn't. All is well.

All is not well.

About two stops in I realise this train is going in completely the opposite direction I want (towards Stratford, I'm trying to get to Tottenham Court) and this whole rigmaroll with this stupid girl and my stupid head have caused me to get on the wrong train. I get off at Bethnal Green, fairly pissed off actually. As I walk up the platform and towards the exist, I see Her. Standing to the right of me, on the the train, waiting for the doors to close. Her hair, Her headphones and that goddamned expressionless face of hers all freaking me the fuck out.

Goddamn it.

I get to the club, order a drink, stand by myself for a while, sit down, stand up, walk right in to a girl, apologise like a madman but don't offer to help her pick up her things though she clearly felt as though I should have, sit down, have my back touched by a strange woman who looks about thirty, meet my friends, get drunk, smoke, bump in to people from my uni at a Subway, get the bus home, try to sleep, puke out my window, get back in bed, and fall asleep.

*I don't know if that grammar is correct

Another dream.

2009-02-03T19:02:00.002Z

I had a really scary dream the other night. All of my scary dreams are essentially the same, someone's always trying to kill me or someone's about to be killed and it's usually always a girl. This one was weird cause the person had no face and when I woke up in the dark of my room I could have sworn to god I saw the faceless wraith right in front of me, like something out of ghostbusters.

I was covered in sweat.

I should lay off the acid.

I went in and got up against betty's warm ass.

2009-02-01T02:12:00.005Z

"Don't go to Paris, they wouldn't like you!"
"Do you know what a hipster is?"
"Its like the Amsterdam of ....*"

"Have you ever been to Trailer Trash?"
"Well, your mother is a supermarket lady!"
"I'm going to go the sor-bon or the cor-told"
"Do you like my cool shoes, Charlie?"

Two sets of utterances by two different morons, none of it was ironic, tongue in cheek or perhaps even vaguely satirical. This is the grotesque face of reality, right here.

On end of the spectrum we have an Anglo-Parisian faux-bohemian who likes to talk too much and try too hard.
On the other, a sad, sad, sad example of what two people with better finances than parental skills can produce.

I don't know where these fuck-ups appear from but I'm always running in to them, its like...well I don't even know what its like! Its funny (the best we can do is to laugh at these things): guys like Max and girls like whatever the fuck that girl's name was are probably, at this very moment in time having more fun than I am. I'm in my room, alone, writing this and thinking of "clever" things to write in my facebook status.

Maybe its me. Maybe I'm the asshole.

Whatever, her friend had the cutest fucking accent in the world. She caught me staring at her as she spoke to her friend, glanced back, looked upwards, and rolled her eyes, then turned the other way. Then left.

One for the wank bank I guess. I should get an offshore tax haven the amount of deposits I've been making of late.

*some place in America, I stopped listening at this point

2009-01-30T18:36:00.001Z

What I mean by big was that her ass was big and her tits were big and that she was big in all the right places. She seemed crazy but I kept looking at her body and I didn't care.

2009-01-29T16:45:00.002Z

dreaming about girlfriends, waking up wet
assuring myself that it was just sweat.

boffo!

I'm taking off this party

2009-01-21T09:35:00.003Z

Last night I dreamed I had two dicks, and had sex with an amputee.

What does that...I don't even...

Bought three books, a scarf made by the good people at the drum tobacco company, some gloves which I lost, a jumper I already had in a different colour and I went to the last Durrr at whatever place it is they used to have Durrr.

It was good yeah, a stranger stroked my arm and it made me uncomfortable. I saw three girls throwing up.

Run up wild on me

2009-01-16T08:25:00.003Z

Had the weirdest dream, i got in to a huge argument with my mother and ran away to France.

I woke up on my friend's kitchen floor, had beans and waffles, then watched tv, then got high, then ate mac and cheese, then fell asleep, then came home, then fell asleep and now here I am.

That's all.

Weird dreams

2009-01-13T10:17:00.002Z

Had a weird dream last night.

Something to do with two dying sisters on a raft in a lake full of ice. There were a bunch of guys trying to save them but one of the sisters who at a point was just a jaw and some hair attached to a disembodied spinal column didn't want either of them to be saved because she didn't trust any of the men.

One of the sisters fell off the raft and the other one jumped in after her or something.

there was more but i forgot it.

Weird dreams

2008-12-27T00:14:00.002Z

Dreamed there was a nuclear war or something like that and I was stuck at a friend's house. Really wanted to get back to my house but I couldn't. I can't remember what else happened, but I remember taking a bus and a plane to canada and maybe dying.

xxx

1,2,3,4,5 so many friends!

2008-12-17T16:12:00.003Z

There was this girl named Sophie I went out with for about a month when I was about 15 and even though I absolutely knew she was cheating on me (a lot) I had no idea what to do about it, we'd go on dates, and we never made it past first base despite the fact that I had it on incredibly good authority that she was DTF.

I had less of a spine back then than I do now.

There was this girl Holly who I met when I was sixteen and hooked up with just before I'd turned eighteen, our "relationship" consisted of her trying her absoloute hardest to piss me off and me whining about it to Matt. I told her to shut up on our first date, heck I even stopped in the middle and told her to "be quiet" once when we were doing stuff cause her Debbie does Dallas style caterwalling was just getting to be too much.

She bothered the hell out of me and I remember I broke up with her at a party not more than ten minutes after she got there, felt so good!

Once I was sat in Thomas Neal Centre reading a comic book in the little caffe bit and there was this girl sat across from me who worked in one of the shops, she was reading a book.

We both kept looking up and sort of half exchanging pleasant looks, like maybe one of us would talk to each other. None of these looks were sustained for more than a second though and it was until some weird old gay guy came over and started asking me the most bizzarre questions about my life that she started looking in my direction and smiling without pause. I was incredibly uncomfortable so I pretended I had a phonecall and left.

I finally took that walk I was talking about, it was only from the bottom of new cross gate to the top of jerningham road (basically from the bottom of the hill to the top) and lasted about four songs but it was pretty much the best thing i've done in a while, just powering up a hill in the freezing cold listening to some awesome tunes (prefab sprout guys, look that shit the fuck up) and enjoying my own company. Then I got to Jack's house and smoked some hash, it was like a little reward!

Life feels really good right now, which I guess serves as a testament to exactly how fickle I am but I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts and hopefully it will. Its always good to be happy.

My moustache is getting thicker

2008-12-15T04:42:00.005Z

Of all the things I regret now and of all the things I will no doubt grow to regret in the future, I regret most that I never took learning the guitar as seriously as I should have when I was younger. I got one for Christmas when I was twelve, I had a few lessons at school and there was a point where I was steadily getting better at it.

I'd probably be at least semi proficient by now! There's still time to learn though right? I heard the Hispanic guy from metallica didn't start learning till he was like sixteen and look where he is now!

I've got a head full of idea really but nowhere to put them, I'm friends with a lot of visually and aurally creative and talented people and I deeply envy the way in which they're all able to express themselves. I guess I can pick up a pen or sit behind a keyboard and do that whole thing relatively well, but bitter rants and critical essays aren't particularly nice to look at or listen to.

I spoke to some guy doing music at Goldsmiths about this once, he said I should "just try".

I guess there's nothing wrong with trying.

Oh by the way, I had a weird dream where zombies had taken over my university and the only safe place was anna's student halls, but they weren't in new cross they were in russel square.

i am your lady and you are my man

2008-12-11T05:01:00.003Z

Did you ever read that one Garfield strip where he finds out that the guy who owns him has been dead for like five years or some shit and he just lives in an empty house hallucinating about being a dick and eating lasagne?

No?

I saw it once, was pretty mind blowing

the above is the last original calvin and hobbes strip

PALATKA

2008-11-27T17:19:00.001Z

Is this friendship like a cocktail party at which we speak with no direction or end just to circumvent silence? That's what our words do. Is that why we're friends? I'd rather be an ass hole than accommodating and conversational. I'd rather be an ass hole than fractional. I'm a party animal. I kill conversation.

2008-11-27T04:08:00.002Z

"I think I'll take that as a compliment!"

"Well, that is how it was intended"

2008-11-25T16:09:00.001Z

Sir Ben Kingsley STOMPS into the shoes of Minor Threat's Ian MacKaye from Mean Magazine on Vimeo.

Don't look beneath the mask of reality!

2008-11-20T21:09:00.005Z

Don't probe the layers of the dream!

look at yr game girl

2008-11-10T18:53:00.002Z

One time I crushed up some vitamin tablets and paracetamol and sold it to two hipsters who thought it was coke.
Easiest forty pounds I ever made.

g-g-g-ghost

2008-11-05T03:04:00.002Z

"the jig is up" says a ghost i used to sleep with
i want to bring her back to life in that room again.
to lay her right there on the operating table.

A married couple...

2008-10-27T15:10:00.001Z

...are sitting at the breakfast table, the Husband says to his wife

"Would you care for an orange?"

His Wife replies:

"Only if it truly loved me."

2008-10-27T02:49:00.002Z

i smoke roll ups without filters sometimes, this is because i'd like to be a writer but have no discernible talent and i feel that taking up a self destructive habit will make up for inability to write anything compelling, interesting or more than a paragraph long.

it'd be cooler if said habit was womanising, but i don't have the looks to be a womaniser, nor do i know or come into contact with all that many (attractive) women.
it'd be edgier if it was (or is that were?) alcaholism, but i can't drink for more than a half hour without falling in to a stupour.
it'd darker if it were drugs, but they make me more of an obnoxious bore than i already am.

so, smoking roll ups without filters will have to do for now. i could try reading more or actually spend time trying to develop ideas and a unique style of writing, but at the end of the day i'm just too lazy.

its a shame that the only thing i've ever been good at is probably - i can't even finish this sentance because i can't think of anything remotely witty to say.

i'm about to watch the new cohen brothers film. i'd like to fall asleep soon.
xx

be excelllent to each other

2008-10-03T11:22:00.002+01:00

Must frustrating dream yet. SO Im in a room watching bill and ted's excellent adventure and the princesses they hook up with towards the end are on it and they look really hot. And then I'm reading a magazine from the 80s and they both sort of appear in at my door, kinda old but strangely young looking, they didn't like come out of the tv or anything, they just always sort of lived near by and I didnt know.

At first I think one of them is a massive bitch but we start making out pretty hard, rage kissing if you would. And its getting to that point where I'm taking my clothes off and shit and then suddenly about a thousand people (literally my whole family) burst into my room and keep popping in and out, each time they leave i get a little bit closer to sleeping with this person and each time the act gets interrupted.

I dont even get to open the condom packet by the time I wake up. I've had some pretty weird "sex dreams" but this was the absoloute worst, I have never woken up so frustrated, it felt like it was real, that real un-immitable blue balls feeling. There is genuinely nothing like it.

And that was last nights dream.

Think I had one the night before that was like a mixture of reanimator or and puppet master, I lived in a world where lifelike cyborg dolls were like house hold pets, one of ours died and our flat mates were really upset (the dolls have lifelike skin, but when this one died it sort of turned into rock and it felt horrible). Meanwhile Herbert Westwood (I think thats the guy's name from reanimator) is pouring that green elixir into the bodies of dead dolls.

In this dream I am the hero of it all and I guess Im getting closer to whats going on but before I even manage to find out I get killed by someone, think I died a couple times in this dream. Woke up pretty early and pretty creeped out.

Weird.

More weird dreams

2008-10-01T13:18:00.002+01:00

Dreamt I was Mark from peepshow, spent a long time trying to lure two annoing teenagers into my cellar and gas them to death with Zyklon B.

Dunno what I dreamt about last night though.

Went to Rough Trade for a freshers thing last night, a girl was really rude to my friend Anna.

I'd spent hours talking to the girl in questions a couple weeks ago when she'd first moved into halls. Crux of it was that she was a boring self obsessed art girl.

The kind of girl whose bullshit you would only tollerate if you were really really trying hard to get laid, and even then you'd only half listen.

Most girls a my university are like this. I'm gonna strangle 'em all.