• Is somebody stealing time?

    Cripes alive.

    I was rooting around Spotify a moment ago, and out of nowhere my head conjured up the thought "ooh, listen to Air - Kelly watch the Stars and Sexy Boy".

    So I did. Good they were too.

    But cor blimey love a duck and all that, have they got the dates wrong or something? That was NEVER 1998....was it?

    Next you'll be telling me it's the 25th anniversary this year of Frankies Power of Love....

  • Surprise....


    ....right, let's have another go.

  • Camp Bestival

    Considering there were around 5000 kids there alongside 10,000 adults, it was surprisingly good

    Review and Pictures:


  • missing things

    Well, ass usual it's been a while since I've managed to get on, and there have been *so* many things I would have liked to pass opinion on too!!!

    But, having moved recently I'm missing the internet - and missing it for longer than I'd expected too as I've not been able to get around to getting it installed, mainly because I'm missing something else....the end of my finger....

  • When the big hand is pointing towards the...

    When the big hand is pointing towards the...

    There's no two ways about it - I'm a complete numb nuts.

    This morning, after getting in late and being out all day and night yesterday, I wasn't expecting to wake at my usual time so thought I'd be getting up a bit later than normal. Not much, just fifteen minutes or so and getting a slightly later bus.

    But, there I was, sun blazing through the window, nice and fresh but warm, waking up and taking a quick cursory glance at my phone, thinking:
    "Ooh, its a bit earlier than my alarm, that means I can get the seven am bus still instead of quarter past"

    So up I get, still tired, but a quick blast in the shower, clothes on, out the door and strolling to the bus stop.

    Except when I get there, the board says the next bus is at 6:32.

    A look up towards the time display then makes me realise its actually only 5:50am and not nearly seven....


  • There's nothing fishy about these facts....

    There's nothing fishy about these facts....

    As with 'The Inconvenient Truth', I think everyone should see this film, which is released next week:

  • Papas got a brand new hat....

    Papas got a brand new hat....

    I like hats. I'm sure anyone who even remotely knows me has guessed this by now.

    After having my blue cord trilby lost by someone at New Years, theres been a void. It still hurts to talk about.

    But I've got a new one, and I think its awesome....


    Yes, I know it is a slightly dodgy picture - okay, very trailer park with the vest. But it was a hot day.
    Yes, and it could potentially be construed as a bit poncey / narcissistic (oh sod it, I cant be arsed with spell check, I think that was right though) to post one.

    But I like the hat. So there.

    I haven't named him yet, but he will be a constant companion during the season.

  • Do you love good music? yeah, yeah

    Do you love good music? yeah, yeah

    Ah, summertime and the living is easy....and festival time is nearly upon us. Yippee.
    I'm very, very fortunate this year to be able to attend Camp Bestival in Dorset for free - woohoo - and possibly wrongly over-excited at the prospect of Will Young being there; more so than it being PJ Harveys only festival appearance I know, and Hugh Furry-Wantstoeatitall getting all excitable with his foodstand.

    Sadly I cant make BeachBreak to cover that, and Secret Garden Party clashes with everything else. It's fab to have the opportunity to cover loads of festivals, but oh, the drama, too many clashes to milk it all the way one should. But theres also a lovely little local festival called Blissfields to do, which is ace. And they do free tractor rides. Brilliant.

    Speaking of local, its very pleasing when you see up-coming local bands start to makes waves, especially when you think they are well-deserving of it, and equally worthwhile on the national stage as their peers. I like these guys, and they've had an endorsement from Rob de Bank at lasts years Bestival, and Huw Stevens.

    Their new single is fab (in my opinion anyway) and cracking for summer, and they're great live. You can even read about it here, if you like:

    Well worth a quid or two of anyones money, I think.

    After the disappointment of missing Morrissey last week, the intense sunshine has got me dripping a bit of sex wee in anticipation of festivals, camping, sunburn, sitting in the middle of the campsite in my Anchorman style pants and trailer trash vest (long story from last years Truck festival, which also involved the sporting of a Mexican paedo 'tache. Dont ask) and scabby toilets.

    Oh, and I also got an awesome new hat, which makes hatman here very happy.

  • It makes me as sick as a parrot..

    There are many, many newsworthy events around, and hundreds of bits of information that the public should be made aware of. Important things that should make the reader that little bit more wised up to how the world works, and even trigger some kind of action from them.

    So it really, really, fucks me off to see pretty much every single newspaper today carrying pictures and copy of the 'trauma' from the Champions League defeat last night.

    It's not as if its 'news' anyway that would have escaped anyones attention who has caught the tv, radio or internet in the intervening twelve hours. Not to mention the fact that don't they have back pages for those kind of headlines.

    Yes, we all know that (most - not all) newspapers are concerned with sensationalism over fact anyway, and come to expect that every single day from the red tops and tabloids. But usually the broadsheets and more forward thinking liberal papers arent as bad.

    The Champions League wankfest leaves a bad taste in my mouth anyway, as its just a groomed exercise in corporatism and commerciality, believing that the more money and flash that is on display, equates to bigger and better. (And Im no football basher, I love my Hammers.)

    Its just so bloody infuriating to gaze across all of the front pages and see them all treating this football match as headline worthy news, giving it the same level of gravitas and 'pain' against a backdrop of a 'head in hands' Rooney, as they would a picture of a dazed troop in the aftermath of a conflict zone.

  • ...d'ough!!

    Oh, calamity.

    I've incurred the wrath of my colleagues, I'm sure, as I failed to deliver birthday donuts this morning. Admittedly, they would have been a day late anyway. And I still don't quite understand the logic in the tradition of buying everyone else cakes and goodies on your birthday...surely it's the other way round!

    But I was unable to find one single donut in any of the bakeries or supermarkets this morning - is there some kind of county wide dough shortage? Is it a national holiday for bakers? a strike? Bizarre...

    But on the plus side, Morrissey also failed to deliver this week, and very graciously cancelled Monday nights gig. The official line is due to illness, but I'm sure it was a sympathetic action after hearing that I had to give up my review and interview slot due to work committments. God bless ya, Moz.

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