Pynchon

A couple of mememe's, before I get back on track. Lazy post. Found on Someday baby...; a random blog I dropped in on.

This one is probably more suitable to the American school experience, but let's give it a go, shall we? Your last year at school/college/university/whatever. Questions.

1. Who was your best friend? Didn't have one.
2. What sports did you play? None. I was on an IT course.
3. What kind of car did you drive? I don't drive. I'm afraid that I chickened out on that part of growing up.
4. It's Friday night. Where are you? At home.
5. Were you a party animal? No.
6. Were you considered a flirt? No. For the first half of the year I was skinny, wore black national health glasses and a "Blake's Seven" T-shirt. How could I be a flirt? I would have been crucified. The second half of the year was slightly different. I changed my glasses, bought a wicked striped jacket and black jeans. I also shaved my head. People looked at me differently. It was as if I had been replaced by a stranger. To this day I cannot believe that I did it.
7. Were you in band, orchestra, or choir? No.
8. Were you a nerd? See 6. and you decide.
9. Did you get suspended/expelled? No.
10. Can you sing the fight song? We do not go in for such things in the UK, so no.
11. Who were your favourite teachers? Stuart and Clive.
12. Where did you sit during lunch? I didn't. I walked around.
13. What was your school's full name? Bournville College Of Further Education.
14. School mascot? Fuck knows.
15. Did you go to Prom? We do not do such things in the UK.
16. If you could go back and do it again, would you? Oh, yes, but in the rerun I would be cool for the whole of the year.
17. What do you remember most about graduation? You mean the day I left? Drinking too much.
18. Where did you go senior skip day? I don't know what that is.
19. Were you in any clubs? No.
20. Where did you go most often for lunch? Haven't I already answered that. See 13.
21. Have you gained some weight since then? Yes.
22. Who was your Senior prom date? Enough of this prom nonsense.
23. Are you planning on going to your 10 year reunion? I don't do school reunions. People pointing at the loser and asking you what you are doing now? No thanks.
24. Who was your home room teacher? I cannot remember.
25. Who will re-post this after you? A couple of people, I would hope.
26. Who was your high school sweetheart? I had an insane crush on a girl. She was nice to me ,but had no interest in me in a romantic way.
27. Do you still talk to people from high school? Not a single one.
28. Did you win prom queen or king? No, but we did have a pop music quiz and I demolished all opposition on the subject of mid 60's pop.

This one is a bit more general.

1. I've come to realize... that people are way too uptight.
2. I am listening to... fireworks going off. (I don't know what that is all about.)
3. I talk... pretentious nonsense, some of the time.
4. I love... Lorraine.
5. My best friends... know who they are.
6. My Car... is non existent
7. My love life... is fucking rubbish.
8. I hate it when people ask... how I am doing at the moment.
9. Love is... a many splendoured thing. (My Dad used to sing that to my Mom.)
10. Marriage is... the point of no return.
11. Somewhere, someone is thinking... that they are going to score tonight.
12. I'm always... thinking of what I'm going to write next.
13. I have a secret crush on... Roxanne Pallett (Jo Stiles from "Emmerdale".)
14. I love to eat... (That's the sentence in itself.)
15. My cell phone... is never turned on. (Good God, somebody might call me! We can't be having that, can we?)
16. When I wake up in the morning... lift my head, I'm still yawning. (From "I'm Only Sleeping", written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney.)
17. Before I go to bed... I clean my teeth and wash my face.
18. Right now I am thinking about... going to bed.
19. Babies are... the glue that can sometimes hold a relationship together.
20. I get on MySpace... once in a while. (I do not have an account, so it is pretty irrelevant to me.)
21. Today I... saw "Ocean's Thirteen". (I rather enjoyed it, as well. I will write about it at another time.)
22. Tomorrow I will... clean the house and go to see "Hostel: Part 2".
23. I really want... to get on better with Lorraine.
24. Someone that will most likely re-post this... will have an easier time of filling it in than I have.

Labels: Mememe

"Doctor Who". Speculation and maybe spoilers. You can skip the next bit, if you want.





Wasn't last Saturday's episode brilliant? The Doctor incapacitated. The Master in control. Martha on the run. Captain Jack dead (but not for long). The U.S. President dead. The human race facing doomsday, or at least a severe culling. John Simm just about dominated the episode, and although it was a fine line he straddled between megalomania and pantomime, I think he just about kept on the right side of that line. Great stuff.

On balance most of the current series has been outstanding. Tomorrow is the season finale and then it's the long wait until the Christmas episode that is going to feature, of all people, Kylie Minogue. Apparently Russell T. Davies wrote the part with Britney Spears in mind, but she wasn't interested. Silly Britney (but I still love her...)

The interesting question here is will David Tennant still be The Doctor after tomorrow? Well, there's the rub. I heard this week that 3 different cliffhanger endings have been filmed and they are...

1. Martha is kidnapped by aliens and the Doctor sets out to find her.
2. In the act of saving the Earth, the Tardis is apparently destroyed.
3. The Doctor is mortally wounded and regenerates into...

Ah... Well, I've heard names. How about this one?

Robert Carlyle.

I don't think he is a good fit, but what do I know? I remember being outraged when Sylvester McCoy got the job in 1987, and he turned out to be brilliant. (I told him as much when I got his autograph a couple of years ago. He smiled at me benevolently and said, "You weren't the only one who thought that." Lovely man.)

Lorraine is convinced that tomorrow will be David Tennant's last hurrah. If it is, I will be sad, because he has been great.

The king is dead. Long live the king.

********

On Sunday I saw "Like Minds" at the Midlands Art Centre.

Public schoolboy Nigel Colby (Tom Sturridge) is found dead. His head has been blown off. Arrogant rich kid Alex (Eddie Redmayne) is found standing over the body with a shotgun, but he denies committing murder. As Alex is a minor, criminal psychologist Sally (Toni Collette) is asked to determine whether the boy should be charged with the murder of his schoolfriend. As Alex tells his story, flashbacks reveal the truth of what happened and the shifting relationship between the two boys. Or do they? Who is insane here? Nigel? Alex? Or maybe both?

I checked the cinema listings last Friday, and bored to tears with the thought of seeing a summer blockbuster, I opted for this, primarily on the basis that it featured Toni Collette, who is never less than interesting in every film she has appeared in.

I'd never heard of "Like Minds". It has not had a major cinema release in this country, which is a shame, because it's not a bad film, just a bit derivative. A low key mix of "Murder By Numbers" and "Primal Fear" set in an (English?) public school. It is a thriller, but it is also all about the shifting of control and domination and obsession.

Toni Collette and Richard Roxburgh are not top billed, despite what the picture above says, and that is correct, because their parts are really just extended cameos. The film belongs to Eddie Redmayne and Tom Sturridge as Alex and Nigel. Both good, otherworldly performances, especially by Eddie Redmayne.

I think that "Like Minds" is worth a look.

********

My Brother was barred from Reflex, a couple of Saturday's ago. I have pierced this story together from what my Brother told me and from what my Brother has told my Mom. The truth is somewhere in between.

My Brother has been having a long distance relationship with a girl. Most weekends he has been visiting her, but a couple of weekends ago she came up to Brum. My Brother was out with this girl. His best mate tagged along. My Brother went to the toilet. When he came back his best mate was groping the girl and the girl was trying to swallow his best mate's face. My Brother showed his displeasure at this turn of events with his fists.

Bouncers tried to intervene. My Brother showed his displeasure at the bouncers trying to intervene by kicking one of the bouncers in the balls. My Brother was ejected from the establishment and told to never return.

My Brother is a player. Has been for a while. Goes out with girls, gets his way and then disposes of them. He cares about nothing except his family and Aston Villa football club. I don't think he has any conscience. Frankly, I think he got what he deserved. It's been a long time coming.

Lorraine said it was lucky I wasn't with him that weekend. (It was the weekend I had a pain in my foot.) She said that the girl might have come on to me. No. I don't think so. I'm hardly attractive. I'm glad I wasn't there, though. Because I would have had to stand with my Brother. Right or wrong.

********

The family have been talking about me. My Mom has been thinking about the Pynchon-And-Lorraine-Do-Not-Fuck situation. She has a solution.

Last Saturday she told me that I must leave Lorraine. The sooner the better.

Not as easy as that Mom.

Why?

Because I love her.

Well, she doesn't love you, does she?

Maybe. I'll have to ask her.

And then she tutted.

That's my Mom.

********

Ginger Foghorn, I will write about on my next post. I'm in a Glam Rock kind of mood.

Labels: Family, Movies, Sex, Television

I am supposed to be reading the next Terry Pratchett "Discworld" novel, but instead I've been been reading Keith Allen's autobiography "Grow Up". It was an impulse buy, in hardback, even though I vowed not less than a week ago that impulse buys were definitely out of the question for the foreseeable future, seeing as I have very little actual fucking money. Despite the fact that I am nearly half way through it, and he has yet to have any dealings with anybody famous, it is a really funny read. Well worth the money.

Some might disagree, but I think Keith Allen is a great talent. "Gino: Full Story And Pics" is still my favourite of the "Comic Strip" series. His documentary "Keith Allen Will Burn In Hell", shown last week on Channel 4, about the activities of the Westboro Baptist Church (purveyors of the insanity of this website and this website), is an absolute classic. They should show it in schools.

********

The UK has been having a bit of rain.

(You don't say. I do say!)

I shouldn't make light of it. People have died and houses have been wrecked. It's been difficult for a lot of people. Where I live, it is easy for me to shrug my shoulders and say "It's a shame, but so what?" I have never been flooded out. (I don't count the water leak in 2002, although I have never entered the kitchen since without checking the ceiling.) I suppose my house must be on higher ground.

I got a small lesson in the effect of the flooding when visiting the Midlands Art Centre last Sunday to see a film. There was a small sign at reception which said something like this.

"We apologize for any inconvenience caused by last week's closure of the cinema. The closure was due to massive flooding in Cannon Hill Park and the subsequent flooding of the cinema. Patrons may notice, at present, a damp smell in the cinema and we wish to apologise for this. We are told that the smell will abate in time and beg for your patience and understanding."

(Lovely note, by the way. Very sincere.)

I had a walk around the park and witnessed some of the attempts to limit the devastation of the week before. (God knows what it is like now. The rain started up again, this week.) It had been tidied up, but there were sandbags and mud and shit everywhere. The lake looks like it had burst it's banks. You could see the marks on the ground.

If I ever seriously got flooded out I would freak. I don't like water where it shouldn't be. I especially wouldn't like water in my living room or by my TV or computer. Water belongs in taps, sinks and baths. And the Ocean.

********

There are a lot of squirrels in Cannon Hill Park. Very skinny squirrels. I get a lot of squirrels in my back garden. It is not unknown for six or seven of the buggers to caper about my back garden, having a laugh, stealing the seed and nuts I put out every week for the poor, starving little birdies. Every single one of the squirrels in my back garden are fat.

(How fat are squirrels supposed to be? I don't know.)

In Cannon Hill Park I witnessed a teenage girl trying to entice a squirrel to eat some crisps. She had put the crisps on the ground, had stepped away and was making clicking noises with her tounge. The squirrel was having none of it. He was halfway up a tree giving the girl the evil eye. The girl's boyfriend, standing behind her, looked at me and I looked at him. He shrugged and gave me a look that spoke volumes.

Silly cow, is what the look said.

********

I had not eaten and I was hungry. There was time before the film started, so I went to the Midlands Art Centre restaurant, ordered a bowl of chilli, chips and rice and sat eating it. A lady and a guy came in with a young baby. The guy ordered food and they sat down. The lady undid her blouse, took off her bra, prepped a nipple and started breast feeding the baby.

I stared. I don't think I was the only one who stared. Eventually I decided not to be so fucking rude and concentrated on my bowl of food.

This is the 21st century. A woman feeding her child in a perfectly natural way in a public place should not be of any interest at all, but it is. I don't know why it is.

True, maybe I would have been less inclined to look if she had not been a gorgeous redhead with shoulder length hair, green eyes, full red lips, creamy pale skin, great tits and wearing the kind of peasant blouse that has turned me on since I saw Linda Hayden wearing one in "Blood On Satan's Claw" when I was about 14.

Shallow. That's me.

********

More tomorrow.

Labels: Reading, Sex, Squirrels, Weather

The Dentist! I forgot to put the Dentist on the list.

So that is where I will start.

Going to the Dentist holds no fears for me. I look after my teeth. Other than the twice yearly check up and scale and polish, I have not had to have any treatment whatsoever in nearly 25 years. I'm proud of that fact, but it hasn't always been this way.

Prior to the age of 12 or so, with regard to oral hygiene, I was a lazy little shit. I hated cleaning my teeth and drove my Mom and Dad to distraction. I was always at the Dentist and rapidly going the way of my Mom and Dad. My Dad had lost all of his teeth at a very early age to some kind of gum disease, although his false teeth were Donny Osmond gleaming white and kind of shark like. My Mom had lost her top row, she says to something called quinsy, when she was 16 years old. Bitter experience. They didn't want me to be like them, but of course, I ignored them.

And then David Chance happened.

Fat kid in my class. Blonde hair. Loud, gobshite, opinionated fucker. (Pot calling the kettle black, anyone?) Cunt. I hated him.

P.E. lesson. The lads were playing football and then, in front of everybody, David Chance said to me, "Urgh. You've got brown teeth."

Of course I had to punch him in the face, self respect and all that, but he was right. I went home that night, cleaned my teeth thoroughly and have rarely missed a day since.

My teeth colour is not the best in the world, but I can live with that. My own fault. I didn't wake up to my problem early enough. My Dentist said that if it started to bother me he could recommend some good whitening treatment. It's not going to happen. I'm not that bothered.

So, the Dentist. In I go. Nice Mr. Sandhal shakes my hand. Take a pew. Any problems? No. Good. Open wide. Hmm. Hmm. No problems that I can see. They just need a scale and polish. That OK? Sure. He starts. I check out the dead flies in the light fitting. Exactly the same dead flies as last time. All done. Out I go.

Clean your teeth, kids, and you can be a sex symbol like me.

********

On Saturday lunchtime I went to see "Captivity".


Oh, Elisha, Elisha, Elisha...

Those eyebrows, that hair, those lips, those legs, those tits... Indeed you are an angel, fallen from heaven itself, but I do wonder sometimes if you will ever manage to spin the cult stardom you obtained in "24" into anything remotely resembling a decent cinema career.

You failed to get the parts of Lois Lane in "Superman Returns" (no great loss frankly as it was boring beyond belief), Mary Jane Watson in "Spider-Man" (I didn't like it, but a lot of people did) and it's sequels, and Sue Storm in "Fantastic Four" (which was fun and I liked it) and it's sequel.

"House Of Wax" was so-so and derivative. "The Girl Next Door" again was derivative, but you were sexy and perfectly cast. The bits in "Love Actually" and "Old School" were nothing but cameos. Everything else you've done is probably unlikely to darken any cinema in the UK anytime soon.

"Captivity" ain't gonna change a thing for you because it is, considering the talent involved, utter and complete rubbish.

I admit it. I like a bit of torture porn now and again. (Am I a deviant for admitting that? Perhaps if I said I liked horror films now and again, would that be a little more palatable?) I liked the "Saw" films a lot. Full of ingenuity, imagination and dark humour. True, I thought "Hostel" was a bit empty and in essence not very good, but "Captivity" makes it look like a work of genius. (By the way I will be seeing "Hostel 2" at the weekend. I will not comment on a film if I have never seen it.)

"Captivity" is a bad film. A bad "Saw" ripoff. As bad a film as you could hope (or not hope?) to see in a cinema this year. It is dull, unimaginative, slow and goes nowhere. It has a twist, but not a very interesting one. You can probably guess what it is and you will probably be right.

Director Roland Joffé should know better. He directed "The Killing Fields", "The Mission" and "City Of Joy". Writer Larry Cohen knows his way around an exploitation story. Amongst many others he wrote "Best Seller", "Q", "Phone Booth" and "I, The Jury".

What on earth were they thinking? Disappointing.

********

Bargain buy of the weekend. The Alfred Hitchcock DVD box set. 14 films, not including a documentary. It was retailing for 90 quid at HMV, but I got it for... 25 quid. Not lesser known films, either. Just take a look.

"The Birds"
"Family Plot"
"Frenzy"
"The Man Who Knew Too Much"
"Marnie"
"Rear Window"
"Saboteur"
"Shadow Of A Doubt"
"Topaz"
"Torn Curtain"
"The Trouble With Harry"
"Rope"
"Vertigo"
"Psycho"

True, there is no "Strangers On A Train" or "North By Northwest" or "To Catch A Thief" or "Rebecca" to make it the perfect Hitchcock collection, but it is a minor gripe. Bloody amazing value.

********

More tomorrow.

Labels: Movies, Teeth

Me again.

As you have probably gathered, nothing of consequence is going to be written tonight. I have spent the last hour booking a train ticket for Lorraine, who (as normal) wanted to know every variation of times, connections and journey, before she made up her mind as to what she wanted. I shouldn't moan. If I was doing it for me, I would probably be just as picky.

It's not a trip that Lorraine wants to make, but needs must. One of her elderly relatives has had a bad fall and is in hospital, and Lorraine wants to show 'support' to his missus; her cousin. I'm a bit pissed off that Lorraine is going to be away this weekend, simply because we had intended to have a night out and see "Ocean's Thirteen", but I would be a shit if I objected to her not being here, wouldn't I?

So, I'll just do a quick list to whet your appetite about some things I want to write about.

1. "Captivity".
2. "Like Minds".
3. A lady showing her breasts in the restaurant at the Midlands Art Centre.
4. Skinny squirrels.
5. The Alfred Hitchcock DVD box set.
6. "Grow Up" by Keith Allen.
7. My Mom's solution to the Lorraine-and-Pynchon-do-not-fuck-anymore situation.
8. "Doctor Who".
9. Floods.
10. My Brother getting barred from Reflex.
11. Ginger Foghorn.

Can't wait!

Labels: Lorraine, Time

Hello kids!

Enjoy the weekend?

I did.

I was going to write about it. It was going to be post of humour and wit and wicked word play. Not going to happen now, because I am very fucked off at a frustrating 3 hours of trying to obtain a consensus with Lorraine as to which hotel to book in London for the end of August, for our trip to see the Stones. All I want to do at this exact moment is to bury this laptop in Lorraine's head.

Maybe I will write about the weekend tomorrow. Before "C. S. I. Crime Scene Investigation".

As you were.

Labels: Stress

Last Sunday I went to see "Ne Le Dis à Personne" or "Tell No One".



Minor spoiler, but only of the start of the movie.

Eight years after the brutal kidnapping and murder of his wife, her still traumatised husband Alex (François Cluzet) receives a mysterious email. It appears to be from his wife. (Now, that's what I call snail mail.) Is his wife alive, and if she is, who died eight years ago, and why?

I have Harlan Corben's novel "Tell No One" gathering dust on my bookshelf. I've never read it. Actually I'm having trouble remembering how I obtained it. Maybe it's Lorraine's, although she claims she didn't buy it. From the film it looks more like the kind of thing I would buy, rather than the kind of thing she would buy.

Doesn't matter. I loved the film. "Ne Le Dis à Personne" is really great, edge of the seat stuff. Exactly the kind of labyrinth, paranoid thriller that I used to love, once upon a time. Layers and layers of deception, stripped away as the film progresses. Great stuff, totally engrossing and with one of the best on-foot chase sequences ever committed to film.

I'm surprised that Hollywood did not make the movie first. No doubt an English language adaptation is in the works as we speak. I hope not. Thank you, Hollywood, but a remake is not required.

Tomorrow I am having my twice yearly checkup at the Dentist. I don't envisage any problems. Then I will probably see "Captivity", starring Elisha Cuthbert. I have heard nothing good about "Captivity", so obviously it the essential choice.

Jimi Hendrix once wrote a song about the lovely Elisha.

Labels: Movies, Music

Let's try this again, shall we?

Happy Summer Solstice to all you all. Sadly I have been unable to book a dwarf to dance naked around a rock in my back garden at sunrise, but I hope to manage it next year.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Events.

On Monday evening Graham and I went to see INXS at the Symphony Hall.



At this juncture let me direct you here and here for Graham's pretty good reviews of the gig.

It's a cop out, but what is there to add? Very little.

At the present time, with shaven head and goatee, Graham does look very much like Rob Halford of Judas Priest. At one point Graham demonstrated his psycho stare. Actually, very much like his normal stare, but I was too scared to say. The pink tie dye shirt was also a bit disturbing.

We talked about some private things. Very mysterious. We also had a good moan. I think we both like the odd snarl at the world.

The gig.

We missed all of the first band except for their last song, which featured the lyrics "sex you up, sex you up". Graham said they sounded a bit like Ocean Colour Scene, but I didn't get that myself.

What we saw of The English Beat (we were in the bar, where else? "A pint of Strongbow and a Becks please, my good man!") was really good and they played my favourite song of theirs ("Save It For Later", which was never a hit, scandalous!) at the very end of their set. Brilliant. Dave Wakeling may be a little more... er... rotund, these days, but he sang exactly the same as he did in the early 80's. Great pop/ska band; underrated even when they were having hits. Like I said, brilliant.

INXS, and new singer J. D. Fortune, were really, really good. I was surprised because it could have been the lamest spectacle in the entire world. I mean, think about it. A bunch of middle aged rockers, having frankly seen better days, recruit a new lead singer (the original singer - a great front man, by the way - having died whilst having a wank) from a reality show. They then have the gall to go on tour with this impostor, performing the original hits sold so brilliantly by the original singer, and hope that the punters would not notice the difference.

It couldn't work. Could it?

It did work. It worked very well. It was a great show. Great musicianship and great songs. I forgot how many great songs INXS had recorded. You know them. "What You Need", "Need You Tonight", "Never Tear Us Apart", "Suicide Blonde", "Mystify", "New Sensation", "Taste It", "Disappear". They played some new stuff that I didn't know that sounded like, and as good as, the old stuff.

J. D. Fortune obviously has an image of how a rock star should behave. Moves had been carefully digested and studied and adapted. Nothing wrong with that. You can only adapt what has worked before and your own style will come in time. I think it worked, as well. J. D. Fortune was a rock star. He smoked and drank onstage. He wore jeans so tight that Paris Hilton would balk at trying to fit into them. He also, crucially, sang and performed brilliantly. He glided and prowled across the stage. He shook his ass. He connected with the audience and he sold the songs. Yes, it was very slick, and I'm sure every move had been completely thought through, but it was great.

I don't see any reason why INXS could not be a big, worldwide band again. All it would take would be another hit and they could be away.

I was going to write a review of "Ne Le Dis à Personne", but I have run out of time. I will do it tomorrow.

Labels: Gigs

I'm really not in the mood for this tonight. It's been a pretty bad day.

Tomorrow.

Labels: Bad Day

I've added links! Back later.

(I know. It's very sad. I get up, read some of my book and with half an hour to spare, think to myself, "I have half an hour. Why don't I add the links to my last couple of blog posts, that I promised I would last night?". I mean, who really cares? Sad.)

Labels: Links, Sad

Graham said an interesting thing last night. Actually, Graham says a lot of interesting things, but this particularly struck home.

We were talking about blogging, material and what happens when a blogger runs out of material. Every day cannot be interesting. Sometimes the days are boring and repetitive and nothing happens. Graham said that by now he is acutely aware somebody is reading his blog, and feels an obligation to put something on it every day, whether there is something to say or not. He often does this by putting up a memememe. Easy, peasy. A list of questions. You answer them. You elaborate. Soon you have a post.

To me that sounds awfully familiar. I often put up jokes or music clips from You Tube to fill the space. I suppose that like Graham I don't want to disappoint my fans with nothing.

(Fans? The arrogance... Fans? Ha, ha, ha! You are an utter wanker, John.)

Sure am. It is one of my good points.

Perhaps it was easier to post when nobody was reading? We can all write the most controversial, personal, intensely raw stuff when we are unknown, but can you really do that when you might meet somebody in the flesh who has read that stuff and knows you?

Bollocks. I will try to write like nobody is reading. I think it is the more interesting way. (Ain't I just the maverick? Call me Steve McQueen. In fact, if I ever have to disappear again, my handle might be McQueen.)

On this occasion there is material, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. I am incredibly tired. Jaw droppingly tired. A lot of reasons for this, but partly down to a good night out, last night, with Graham watching the mighty INXS at the Symphony Hall (and thanks for perservering in getting in touch with me, mate) and a long time in getting to sleep when I finally got home. I also saw "Ne Le Dis à Personne" at the weekend, which deserves a bit of a clear headed write up. I also want to add links to this and the last post.

Yours, yawningly, back tomorrow.

Labels: Bloggers, Thoughts

I mentioned a week or so ago that Ian, Lorraine's Step Dad, had been diagnosed with bowel cancer. Anyway, Lorraine has been in Liverpool since Thursday staying with her Step Dad Ian's missus, Penny. Ian had his operation on Friday. Lorraine called me on Friday night. In her own words, "There's wasn't as much of it as they thought there might be. He should recover quickly and he may not have to wear a bag." It's good news. Lorraine is coming home tomorrow, although she will be going back at some point.

So, I have been alone in this house. The days have shot by in a blur of bad food, TV and alcohol. It's not been a meltdown, but I'm pretty pissed off (and pissed) because I know I could have spent the days more constructively.

Thursday evening I watched the special edition of "Napoleon Dynamite" on cable. The only special thing I could spot was a wedding scene I had never seen before, after the end credits, which frankly was pretty superfluous. Still, it's a brilliant film and constantly hilarious, even after multiple viewings. Remember, Vote for Pedro.

Friday evening I watched "9 Songs" on DVD. There are some quite interesting interviews on the DVD, but they are all deluded. "9 Songs" is porn, but that does not mean that it is not a good film and the soundtrack is dynamite.

After that I watched "Glengarry Glen Ross" on DVD. Crazily Jack Lemmon did not get nominated for the best supporting actor Oscar for this film. Al Pacino did. Pacino is hilarious in "Glengarry Glen Ross", but it was Lemmon's Oscar if he had been nominated. (Al Pacino did not win either, but he did win that year for "Scent Of A Woman", which is an inferior film in every way to "Glengarry Glen Ross".)

After that I watched "Bad Lieutenant" on cable. Still pretty grim viewing. That scene where Harvey Keitel abuses those teenage girls in the car is truly chilling and shows just how much of an animal he has become.

Saturday I got up early, ran around buying food, picked up the panto tickets and went to the Midland Masters tournament with my Brother. A bit of an under-subscribed event, compared to last year, but many a fine brew was quaffed and we had a great time. The mighty Villa did not get to the final.

My Brother and I talked about women in general. It was an interesting chat. My Brother has particular thoughts on the Lorraine situation, but it's too much for now. I'll go into it at another time.

I came home. Ate fish and chips and a steak and kidney pie (because I am a fat bloater) and watched "Doctor Who". No spoilers from me, but something that I speculated a while ago might happen, did happen. (You can read about it on the entry for Friday 23rd March 2007. I'm feeling pretty smug about it, actually, and it didn't spoil "Doctor Who" for me.) Then I watched the "Tiswas Reunited" show (which was a bit overwrought and self satisfied and not very good) and then had a bath.

Bed time.

Labels: Illness, Movies, Television

Another quick mememe, courtesy of Graham, and then I'll call it a night.

Singing in the shower? Certainly. I have "Wig Wam Bam" by the Sweet in my head, at the moment, so that was this morning's choice.

Left the stove on? I cannot remember ever doing that.

Ate Stale food? Sure.

Spit in someones Drink? No. Never.

Played with Barbies? Don't think so.

Kissed your posters of your favorite stars? I once licked a picture of Britney Spears to gross out a girl at work. Does that count?

Listened to stupid music and said you like it? Absolutely yes. I once argued the case for the validity of "Barbie Girl" by Aqua as a piece of seminal pop music.

Made someone cry? Men are on this Earth to make women cry. Sometimes with laughter.

Opened your Christmas presents early? Yes. In 1977 my Dad gave me money in the November, instructed me to buy Christmas presents for myself, and to return them to him so that he could wrap them and give them to me on Christmas Day. My Mom was not party to this piece of sneakiness.

Found money and didn't turn it in? I've never found anything more than about a quid and I've kept it every time. Any more than that and I would think twice.

Gave money to a homeless person? Done that. My Brother once turned down a request for money from a homeless person, was called a "Fat Cunt!" and got into a fight with that person. I'm with my Brother on that one.

Thought "Star Wars" was cool? In 1978 I thought it was the greatest film of all time. That feeling has evaporated somewhat.

Had a super-hero costume? No, but in 1970 I had an Apollo spacesuit costume, which I wore everyday for six months. I also had a ray gun. My Dad told me that the real Apollo astronauts took ray guns to the moon, but it was kept quiet.

Lied to protect a friend? Yes.

Broken a bone? Yes. Wrist and leg.

Seen "The Goonies" more than 10 times? No. Never managed to sit through that piece of shit even once (which, of course, disqualifies me from talking about it.)

Played a Computer game for more than 5 hours? No.

Dyed your hair a colour from the rainbow? No, but Sister 1 once painted by nails black. Oh, how I was laughed at.

Hugged your mom in the past 24 hours? No.

All together now...

"Hiawatha didn't bother too much..."

Labels: Mememe

IT people of a sensitive nature, who are familiar with the UNIX operating system, are advised to look away now.

Gay Harry, the oldest and most experienced UNIX programmer at The Company, today logged onto a major customer's UNIX system as root and did the following:

cd /
rm -rf *

The command (delete everything in the current directory and beneath the current directory) only ran for 20 seconds before Gay Harry broke into it but, Hey! How long does it take to detonate an atom bomb?

When Gay Harry came over to me he was as white as a sheet, was sweating and his eyes were on stalks. I thought he was having another heart attack. (Gay Harry had a heart attack in the office a couple of years ago. It was a very shocking thing to witness. A first aider, a very disagreeable but brilliant programmer named Norman Grizzly, saved Gay Harry's life that day. I'm convinced of it.)

"John. I think I've fucked up."

Er... Yes.

My first thought. No problem. We can restore the whole of the system to last night's backup.

Er... No we can't. The customer had logged a call this morning letting us know that their backup had not worked since last Thursday. They had watched it fail, day after day after day, and had only bothered to tell us today.

Oh, shit! Then I think I shit myself.

I told Gay Harry to go for a walk and then I told Salvador Full, the product Boss, what had happened. He was remarkably calm.

"Did you do it?"

"No."

"Who did it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

Shit.

"Gay Harry. It was an accident."

There was a bit of chat about what Gay Harry had intended to do, which was kosher enough, and then Salvador shrugged his shoulders and said the happy phrase, "It's a tech problem now, isn't it? Give it to them. Tell Harry not to worry."

I kissed him on both cheeks and flung the problem on Terry Pig's desk.

Long story short, Terry is booked on an early plane tomorrow. The customer is abroad and Terry needs to be on site to rebuild their UNIX system. The data is fucked though.

I'm going to have a lie down. It's been a long day.

Labels: Computers, Stress, Work

Fancy a memememe? Courtesy of the deadly Reed Twins.

My Record Collection.

FIRST RECORD YOU BOUGHT? Single - "Paperback Writer" by the Beatles (I'm not that old; it was the 1976 re-release). Album - "The Best Of The Monkees" by... Er... The Monkees. The first record I ever owned was "A Hard Day's Night" by the Beatles. My Aunt bought it for me for Christmas 1972.

LAST RECORD YOU BOUGHT? "All Over The Place" by the Bangles. Had to pay an arm and a leg for it from a rare record shop, but it was worth it.

RECORD YOU PLAY BEFORE A NIGHT ON THE TOWN? "Let's Spend The Night Together" by the Rolling Stones, "Sweet Soul Music" by Arthur Conley, "Wig Wam Bam" by the Sweet, "Rock And Roll Star" by Oasis.

RECORD YOU'D PLAY THE MORNING AFTER A NIGHT ON THE TOWN? A bit of Simon and Garfunkel always goes down well.

MOST EMBARRASSING RECORD IN YOUR COLLECTION? I have no embarrassing records in my collection. I am also very modest and have a very large cock.

RECORD YOU ALWAYS DANCE TO AT WEDDING RECEPTIONS? I once went to a wedding reception where they played "Transmission" by Joy Division and everybody freaked out to that one. Never heard it at a wedding since. Otherwise, don't know. I don't go to that many weddings.

FAVOURITE RECORD FOR SHAGGING TO? "Love To Love You Baby" by Donna Summer, who actually sounds like she was having sex while making the record. Naughty Donna. It's been a long time since I have actually had a shag, so I don't know what would be suitable now.

BEST RECORD FOR PLAYING IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS? "Everybody's Been Burned" by the Byrds. Possibly David Crosby's greatest ever 3 minutes and 9 seconds.

RECORD YOU'D PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? "The Carnival Is Over" by the Seekers. The saddest goodbye song of all time. My Gran had it played at her funeral, and if it is good enough for her, it is good enough for me. Leave 'em crying.

FAVOURITE RECORD SLEEVE? I really like the sleeve for the CD version of "Relics" by Pink Floyd, which featured a three-dimensional version of the original LP cover sketch drawn by drummer Nick Mason. Really beautiful sleeve. Also, you cannot go much wrong with the Beatles "Revolver" cover, drawn by Klaus Voorman.

LYRIC OR SONG YOU WISHED YOU'D WRITTEN? At the moment, "One day you'll walk right out of this life, and you'll wonder why you didn't try" from "Ghosts", written by Paul Weller, recorded by the Jam.

RECORD YOU WOULD LIKE TO HAVE GUESTED ON? I wouldn't have the audacity to suggest that I could have improved any record by guesting on it, so probably none. I would have liked to have seen a Beatles recording session, so maybe they would have let me sing on the chorus' of "All You Need Is Love" or "Yellow Submarine"? i.e. When you couldn't actually pick me out.

RECORD YOU'S RECOMMEND TO A KERRANG READER? Couldn't suggest a thing. The heaviest records in my collection are probably by the Who or Led Zeppellin. I would imagine that Kerrang readers would already know all of their music. I know! How about "Action" by the Sweet? A great rock single, which would probably be dismissed by rock fans because the Sweet started as a teenybop, a glam rock band. Their singles "Fox On The Run" and "The Six Teens" were also really good.

Labels: Mememe, Music

I was reading this book today, "The History Of Glue", and I couldn't put it down.

I fancied a game of darts with my mate and he said, "Nearest the bull goes first". He went "Baa" and I went "Moo" and he said, "You're closest".

(Stop John!)

I phoned the local ramblers club today, and this bloke just went on and on.

I visited the offices of the RSPCA today. It's so small you couldn't swing a cat in there.

(Stop!)

I said to this man, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you invent Tippex?"

I phoned the local gym and I asked a guy if they could teach me how to do the splits. The guy said, "How flexible are you?" I said, "I can't make Tuesdays or Thursdays".

(Please stop!)

I'm so lazy I've got a smoke alarm with a snooze button.

I bought some Armageddon cheese today. It said on the packet, "Best Before End".

(Cease!)

So I went to buy a watch, and the man in the shop said "Analogue?" and I said, "No, just a watch".

I went into a shop and I said, "Can someone sell me a kettle?" The bloke said, "Kenwood?" and I said, "Where is he?"

(No!)

So I went in to a pet shop and I said, "Can I buy a goldfish?" The guy said, "Do you want an aquarium?" and I said, "I don't care what star sign it is".

(Boo!)

I was in this restaurant and I asked for something herby. They gave me a Volkswagen with no driver.

My mate is in love with two school bags. He's bisatchel.

(Boo!)

I went to the doctor. I said to him, "I'm frightened of lapels". He said, "You've got cholera".

So I met the bloke who invented crosswords today. I can't remember his name. It's P something T something R.

(Get off!)

My mate asked me, "What do you think of voluntary work?" I said, "I wouldn't do it if you paid me".

So I was in the jungle and there was this monkey with a tin opener. I said, "You don't need a tin opener to peel a banana". He said, "No, this is for the custard".

(Off! Off! Off! Off!)

This policeman came up to me with a pencil and a piece of very thin paper. He said, "I want you to trace someone for me".

So this lorry full of tortoises collided with a van full of terrapins. It was a turtle disaster.

(Rubbish!)

So I told my girlfriend I had a job in a bowling alley. She said "Tenpin?" and I said, "No, it's a permanent job".

I told my Mom that I'd opened a theatre. She said, "Are you having me on?" and I said, "Well I'll give you an audition, but I'm not promising you anything".

(NO!)

So this cowboy walks in to a German car showroom and he says "Audi!"

I met this bloke with a didgeridoo and he was playing Dancing Queen on it. I thought to myself, that's Aboriginal.

(NOOOOOOO!)

I bought a train ticket and the driver said, "Eurostar", and I said, "Well I've been on telly, but I'm no Elvis".
.
.
.
.
.

May I offer my sincere apologies for what has just occurred.

Labels: Humour

I am in terrible pain. It hurts to stand on my right ankle. My shins ache. My thighs throb. My right wrist hurts. My fingers will not bend properly. My face is also red and the skin has started to peel off the top of my head.

The reason?

On Saturday morning I did some gardening. It was the hottest day of the year so far. I didn't wear a hat and muscles that didn't want to get used were used. Four hours of torture.

Never again. Bloody garden. When we were looking for a house, Lorraine announced that she wanted a house with a reasonably sized garden because she would, and I quote, "do things in it". All lies! Foul woman. I think Lorraine has spent maybe two hours working in the garden in the past six years, and that was back in 2003.

It's all my Brother's fault that I was in the garden on Saturday morning. I was supposed to have been going with him to choose a new laptop, but 10 minutes before I was due to leave the house he called to tell me to forget it. He wasn't bothered about getting one straight away. I think he called from his bed. Bastard.

There was a choice. Go to the cinema (tempting, but I'm always going to the cinema), clean the house (No, I did it last week) or tackle the jungle. I did what I thought was the right thing. Serves me right for being such a caring, wonderful, modest example of manhood.

Lorraine has expressed kind words.

"You should have worn a hat. You're also fat and out of condition. Going out in the garden probably did you good!"

I gave her the evil eye and made a sign at her with my finger.

Other than a trip to my Mom's to deliver Sister 2's late birthday presents ("Cool Runnings" and "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" on DVD), a trip to the cinema yesterday and a quick detour to the train station to pick up Lorraine's train tickets for Thursday, I have been safely ensconced in the house, slumped in front of the TV set.

We watched "Firewall" on cable.



Absolutely dreadful. Cliche upon cliche. Not an original idea in the whole movie. Virginia Madsen - wasted. Paul Bettany - wasted. Mary Lynn Rajskub playing Chloe, again. Annoying children and, oh fuck me, a cute dog! Terrible. Awful.

Lorraine and I really enjoyed it. No, we did. Really. "Firewall" was really funny. I'm just not sure that it was supposed to be funny...

I hate to add a note of ageism here, but Harrison Ford now seems way too old to be playing action parts. In "Firewall" he looked old, at the age of 64, in a way that neither Connery nor Eastwood looked old at the same age. Such a shame. I'm not looking forward to "Indiana Jones 4" at all.

After Lorraine had gone to bed (she refuses to watch horror) I watched the 2006 remake of "The Hills Have Eyes" on cable. I had seen the original years ago, and it made such an impression on me that I cannot remember anything about it, except for Michael Berryman's startling appearance.

I really enjoyed "The Hills Have Eyes" remake. I thought it was great. Mutants. Horror. Torture. Plenty of gore, for the gore hounds. Plenty of violence for the... Er... Violence hounds. A heroic dog! Good performances from everybody, but especially from Aaron Stanford, looking years older than his turn in the "X-Men" movies.



I find the majority of horror films not at all scary; maybe I've seen too many of them over the years, but for me "The Hills Have Eyes" has one great jaw dropping moment when (Spoiler) mutant guy with teeth breastfeeds from the nursing sister... and then her Mother arrives (End of spoiler).

It's a scene that lasts only a matter of seconds, but Yuck. I'll say it again. Yuck. Urgh and Yuck and Urgh again.

Lorraine and I watched "Doctor Who" on Saturday. Great, brilliant, scary episode. The BBC billed it as the most frightening modern episode of "Doctor Who" that they have ever done, and they were right. I was absolutely on the edge of my sofa. Lorraine had a cushion ready to cover her eyes in case the horror tried to drive her mad.

Lorraine and I watched the "Any Dream Will Do" finale. I had a cushion ready to cover my eyes in case the horror tried to drive me mad. Curly haired Lee triumphed over goofy teethed Keith and Max Headroom haired Lewis. He was the right choice.

I need to go to bed to rest my limbs. I was serious about the pain. I will add links tomorrow.

Labels: Illness, Lorraine, Movies, Television

I couldn't find a car to throw myself under, so instead I went to the cinema and saw John Boorman's new film, "The Tiger's Tail".


Hmm...

Sadly, it's rubbish, and a major disappointment, because John Boorman is a great director who has made some great films. You know what I'm talking about. "Point Blank", "Deliverance", "Excalibur", "The General", "The Tailor Of Panama", "Beyond Rangoon", "The Emerald Forest". You can look up the others for yourselves.

Brenda Gleeson plays Liam O'Leary, a Dublin property developer, who's life gets changed completely when he finds himself being stalked by a doppelganger.

I have no idea what happened here, but "The Tiger's Tail" is a complete misfire and a total waste of an interesting actor in Brendan Gleeson. It fails completely as a drama and/or a black comedy, chiefly because it is not dramatic enough and it is not funny enough. I can suspend belief as well as the next man, but I didn't believe a word of "The Tiger's Tail".

And the cardinal sin? "The Tiger's Tail" is boring, boring, boring, dull, dull, dull. Maybe I'm missing the subtext somewhere. I'm not too clever.

Such a shame. Onto the next one, Mister Boorman.

Is that the time? Gotta go.

Labels: Movies

I was going to write something, just to catch up, but then I got sucked into the horror that is trying to book train tickets for Lorraine. She likes to know every alternative before letting me make the booking. Start times, end times, start location, end location, value tickets, advanced value tickets, two singles or one return, forward facing or backward facing.

Horrible vile woman.

Now I have to go out. I may throw myself under a car, or I may go to the cinema. Depends on how I feel.

Back later (assuming that the car thing doesn't happen).

Labels: Lorraine, Travel

Anything happening here?

No. Not really.

But the police were at work today! Kind of exciting.

Bit late now. Later.

Labels: Block, Work

We have been preoccupied.

Lorraine's Step Dad, Ian, has been diagnosed with bowel cancer. From what I have wrangled out of Lorraine, the initial diagnosis is that the problem can be addressed by a simple operation and that no chemotherapy will be necessary. This is little comfort to Lorraine who remembers being told exactly the same thing when her Mom was diagnosed with cancer. We know how that ended.

Ian will be going into hospital next week. Lorraine will be taking a little time off work to stay with Ian's missus Penny. The Company have made sympathetic noises, but are probably less than impressed, as certain targets are now not going to be hit.

Hey, you know what I think? Fuck 'em. Lorraine thinks the same. Good girl.

Lorraine loses herself in routine. I can also lose myself in routine. The routine of writing drivel. That I can do quite easily.

"Jindabyne".



"Jindabyne" is a brilliant adaptation of the Raymond Carver story "So Much Water So Close To Home". The story was adapted before in 1993 as one of the many plot strands of Robert Altman's movie "Short Cuts" (by the way, another great movie).

Away from home on a fishing trip, four men find the body of a dead girl in a river. Rather than inform the authorities straight away, the men tie the body up to prevent it floating away and continue with their fishing trip. The film deals with the consequences of that decision.

"Jindabyne" is a brilliant, brilliant film. Beautifully shot in muted browns, greens and yellows amid the panoramic vistas of the Australian outback, it deals with death and the aftermath of death, grief, depression and feelings long considered buried. It is a proper grown up, adult, melancholic, and sometimes spooky film ,and it is really good.

I've long thought that Laura Linney is one of the great unsung treasures of modern mainstream cinema, and make no mistake, this is her showcase from start to end. She gives a wonderful and subtle performance as Gabriel Byrne's damaged wife. Gabriel Byrne is also wonderful. He is such an underrated actor. Real power, anger and distress behind his eyes. He should do more work.

Great film. Highly recommended.

"Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End".


"Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End" is too much.

Trust me. It's not a recommendation.

It is too long, too loud, too boring and there is too much stuff going on onscreen. Utterly confusing and incoherent. As for the acting... I know that it is too much to expect anything more than acting broad strokes in a Summer Blockbuster tent pole release, but Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley were personality vacuums and Johnny Depp was not nearly as funny as in the previous movies. And Keith Richards cameo? OK. I admit it. I did smile when he appeared.

Keef rules!

Yes, "Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End" cost a lot of money, and make no mistake, the money is all up there on the screen ( the special effects are astounding), but it is a terrible, terrible movie in almost every other way possible. Repeat after me, special effects alone do not a movie make.

I hear that "Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End" has just won the best movie in the MTV awards. Ah... I take it all back, then. Stupid children.

Oh, well. What do I know? I didn't even want to see it. I was only dragged along by Lorraine on her annual trip to the flicks. Thank God she didn't want to see "Spider-Man 3: Pile Of Pee". Urgh.

I have finished reading "The Circe Complex" by Desmond Cory. I enjoyed it a great deal. Even though it was written in the mid 70's, I think that it would still make a very good movie. I remember very well the "Armchair Thriller" production on ITV in 1980 that starred Beth Morris, Alan David and James Hazeldine. Very tense and scary. Hmm... I especially remember Beth Morris, who was a particular favourite of mine around that time. She played Caligula's very naughty sister Drusilla in "I, Claudius", a couple of years earlier. It's about time I watched that again. I have it on DVD.

Inspired by "Jindabyne", I am now reading Raymond Carver's first collection of short stories, "Will You Please Be Quiet, Please?" Devastating snapshots of real life and what goes on under the surface of real life. I've nearly finished it.

It is only June and I have booked this year's, or more accurately, next year's Panto. Lorraine (assuming she is still with me), my Niece and Nephew will be going to see "Aladdin" at the Birmingham Hippodrome on 5th January 2008. The reason for the early booking? John Barrowman is scheduled to star and Lorraine really likes John Barrowman. Actually, so do I. Very talented guy. We have seen him onstage a couple of times.

Here is a picture of him. For the ladies.



Sorry to say, ladies, but he's married. To a very nice architect called Scott Gill.

Apparently making an appearance at the Panto will be the Daleks, which was of much more interest to my Niece and Nephew.

Finally, I mentioned that I am writing something. I will keep it under my hat for the moment, but it is a big alternate history that will span 50 years. I may never finish it. It is driving me mad. I am dreaming about it.

Another time.

Labels: Illness, Reading, The Company, Writing

I am writing... something else. So, another time. Yes?

(I know that I need to write up some thoughts on "Jindabyne" - which I saw Saturday - and "Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End" - that we saw last night. I haven't forgotten.)

Labels: Movies, Writing

40 questions. Found on a random blog.

1. Who is the last person you high-fived? Probably my nephew. We certainly do the whole clenched hand, knuckle touching thing all of the time.
2. If you were drafted into a war, would you survive? Of course. History is written by the winners.
3. Do you sleep with the TV on? Only by accident.
4. Have you ever drunk milk straight out of the carton? Almost certainly, but I cannot remember the last time.
5. Have you ever won a spelling bee? Nope, but when I was 9 I came first in a reading aloud contest and they gave me a little cup. My Step Grandfather got it engraved for me. I have still got it.
6. Have you ever been stung by a bee? Don't think so. If I ever was, it was so long ago that I cannot remember.
7. How fast can you type? These days, no idea, but when I did typing at school I passed an exam at 80 words per minute.
8. Are you afraid of the dark? No.
9. Eye colour? Green. Lorraine says that there is a bit of blue in there as well, but I have never seen it.
10. Have you ever made out at a drive-in? No. Never been to a drive-in. If I did go to a drive-in, I would be attempting to watch the movie and nothing would distract me, unless the woman with me was spectacular (Kate Winslet, Rachel Weisz, Jennifer Connolly, et al).
11. When was the last time you chose a bath over a shower? Probably the last time I had the shits. March?
12. Do you knock on wood? No.
13. Do you floss daily? No.
14. Can you hula hoop? Don't know. Never tried.
15. There wasn't a question 15, so one of my own. Look to your left. What is the first thing you see? A Staples bag containing 3 ring binders.
16. Are you good at keeping secrets? Yes, except for my own.
17. What do you want for Christmas? Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men. Failing that, sex with the most beautiful female porn star in the world. They are both as likely to happen as each other.
18. Do you know the Muffin Man? No. He doesn't live around here.
19. Do you talk in your sleep? I've been told that I do. Apparently I argue with myself.
20. Who wrote the book of love? No idea.
21. Have you ever flown a kite? Everybody has flown a kite.
22. Do you wish on your fallen lashes? I have no idea what that means.
23. Do you consider yourself successful? No. Far from it.
24. How many people are on your contact list of your cell? I don't know. I barely turn my phone on. Maybe two. My Mom's number and my home number.
25. Have you ever asked for a pony? No.
26. Plans for tomorrow? Birthday meal with my family and then Lorraine and I are going to see "Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End".
27. Can you juggle? I could once. I once attended a seminar by this guy. Really interesting and fascinating course about memory and learning techniques. At the start of the seminar he promised us that by the end of it we would all be able to juggle, and we could. Something to do with unconscious mental motor functions.
28. Missing someone now? Oh, yes. Lorraine is downstairs on the laptop logged onto the work server, but she mentally she is absent from me. Lately it is happening a lot. Honestly, I miss my friend Vicky.
29. When was the last time you told someone "I love you"? I don't know.
30. And truly meant it? If I say it, I always mean it.
31. How often do you drink? Not in the week. I have stopped that nonsense. I have had some wine this evening. Not too much.
32. How are you feeling today? Melancholy.
33. What do you say too much? Bollocks.
34. Have you ever been suspended or expelled from school? Amazingly, no.
35. What are you looking forward to? Bit pathetic, this, but the climax of the latest series of "Doctor Who". I thought this evening's episode was a stone cold classic. I had to wipe away a sad tear. True.
36. Have you ever crawled through a window? Oh, yes. Sister 1 once broke the front door (it's a long story, which I won't bore you with now) and nobody could open it. I had to escape the house from the kitchen window.
37. Have you ever eaten dog food? Not that I know of, but the food in the canteen at work sometimes resembles dog food.
38. Can you handle the truth? Yes I can. Give it to me straight.
39. Do you like green eggs and ham? Aren't green eggs, rotten eggs? In that case, no. I do like ham. Kill the pigs! Kill the pigs!
40. Any cool scars? I have a scar on my forehead from when I butted the fireplace at my Gran's when I was 6 months old. I have a scar on my left elbow from when I once fell on some gravel at school. I have a scar on my left leg from when I cut my leg open on some glass. (Inside it looked white and spongy. I remember that.)

en·nui (noun) A feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom

I did see "Jindabyne" today, which I really liked, but I just don't have the energy to write about it.

Labels: Boredom, Mememe, Movies

I normally blog pretty much in silence. Music playing in the background distracts me, but I am listening to some music now (and yes, it is distracting).

It's the album, "The Gift" by the Jam. (Yes, it is one of my Brother's Birthday present's, but I figured I would take the opportunity to replace the copy of "The Gift" on my MP3 player with this, the remastered version.)

I can't have listened to "The Gift" in over 10 years. It's (mostly) a great collection of songs, but I'm finding listening to it a sad experience. I think what's done it are these lines from the song "Ghosts".

"One day you'll walk right out of this life
And then you'll wonder why you didn't try."

How incredibly true, except that I doubt I will ever walk right out of this life. Because I am too much of a coward.

Another "The Gift" related memory just came to me.

In 1982, when I was at Bournville College in Birmingham, there was a girl I fancied so much that it hurt. She knew it as well, but she was nice. We were friends, but she didn't want anything else.

She knew that I loved the Jam, but she knew nothing about them. She asked me to sing her a great song of theirs, so I did the whole of "The Planner's Dream Goes Wrong", in the car park, before the class started. She said she was impressed.

Rubbish. I was great when I was 19, but I have never been able to sing.

When the course had finished, we corresponded for a while, but I never used to keep in touch with people for very long. She was going to train to be a nurse, specialising in the care of mentally handicapped children. I have no idea where she is now, or what became of her.

It was great to be 19.

Labels: Music, Thoughts