no title required.....

She keeps a distance, but she’s always there, watching, waiting, but most of all anticipating for the time when I return. She knows. We share a bond, and have done for over 16 years, she’s seen a wife and several loves both come and go and not once cast a judgement. Even tho at times I’ve taken her for granted, left for what must seem years at a time, yet she still greeted me with affection and love.

Her very name means “love and understanding”, something I first discovered in the lyrics and music of Stuart Adamson. In recent years she has become an educator to my daughter, teaching her the subtle qualities of care and responsibility, something that is sadly missing from a host of people around us who think they know what “love” means and is shown in their reactions to our situation.

At the moment she is fighting for her life, and the small group which I call “my family” are in limbo…… She is dying, there is no question of that, and with her passing I too will experience another part of “who I am” slip away.

I can only offer her comfort, she will go as she came, cradled in my arms.

My little girlie, my DC, my AddieCat.

Ssssshhhhhh, can you hear the voices?

Ok, I don't usually go for these online personality test things, they are only there to sell you a diagnosis of some major character flaw and before you know it you're a gibbering wreck, living under a bridge and £2000 lighter.

But, this one came from Kat, someone who seems to be sane, upstanding and without character flaws (ok, so believing you have a pair of haunted nutcrackers may not pass scrutineering by a professional on a leather chair, it's still harmless.... at the moment, so it doesn't count), so I thought I'd give it a go.....

These are my results..... if you know me, then feel free to comment. If you're a professional shrink and think you can help, then you can find me in the 3rd cardboard box under Staines bridge

Setback after setback has resulted in considerable stress and now you have got to the stage where you are continuously on your guard, not only to protect yourself from others but to protect yourself from yourself.

It would seem that many of your unfulfilled hopes and dreams have led to uncertainty and suspicion. You no longer wish to answer to others and you are insisting on freedom of thought.

You are seeking ways to protect yourself from further loss of prestige and against further setbacks. You have become very dependent and you doubt that matters could possibly get any better in the immediate future and this negative attitude is leading you to exaggerate your claims and to refuse reasonable compromise.

You are probably English, northern, fat and most likely bald as a coot.

The good news is that you are not paranoid, everyone really does think you're a tit.

If you want to have a go, then go here...... remember to paste your results back here. We can then compare and see who is most likely to knit themselves a suit from the skin of their dead victims.

1973 - burn baby burn (....cos it's all 100% Nylon)

I've got a serious case of "cant-be-arsed" going on. I have NO interest in anything I'm doing, and Christmas is nothing more than a reminder that everything I've previously done was wrong.

Anyhow, some months ago I came across an old UK home shopping catalogue from 1973... In '73 I was 6..... and more importantly Sunderland AFC won the FA cup..... which has nothing to do with this post, so I'll carry on.

This catalogue is fantastic, it's a snapshot of almost anything that you could purchase, and an awful lot of stuff that you shouldn't.

From highly flammable 100% Terilene/Nylon sleepwear to Fibreglass curtains and more Crimpolene than you can shake a steam iron at.

After the initial shock at the non-biodegradable materials used you start to notice the colours. WOW, I can only imagine before 1973 all clothes/carpets were either black & white or just brown. The words "busy" and "why" are constant companions on each turn of the page.

So here's a few I've "cut out"......

This poor unfortunate lass on the left here is typical of the clothes on offer.

I'm speechless.... I can only assume there's a dog's bed somewhere in London missing it's cover.

At some point, the manufacturer sat down with the designers and agreed this "garment" was marvelous and should be mass produced and sold for a premium...... just let that soak in for a while, no doubt these people have retired and are drawing huge pensions. Proof there is no justice in this word.

It's got flared sleeves for Christs sake! I think it could be a kind of contraception rather than clothing.

I'm welling up here, Oh the shame!

I guess by now you've seen the abomination which is the fella on the right. There's not one thing right about this. I've no idea where you'd wear this to, no, hold on..... apparently there are clubs that cater for this kind of perversion, I think I leave this one here.

I think we need to move onto some of the flooring that was available. You need to prepare yourself first, I would suggest taking a seat.... one with a belt would be good as I think you'll need to hang on as you may become nauseated and a little confused.

here we go....

and again.....

I feel for the cat on that last one, you can see its terrified! it darent move! I can understand buying one of these carpets if you're incontinent or need to cover up a crime scene, apart from that I'm baffled.

and to round off, here's a few that require no comment at all.

Stuffed and remembered

A video of all the stills I took while on tour with The Wonder Stuff.....

Music by Miles Hunt "These Things Remembered" Demo, used with kind permission

If you like what you've heard then why not buy the album

Ganin' yairm t'tek sum pictures liek

It was a Saturday, no Em to entertain and the weather not conducive to silly lean angles so I decided to drive 300 miles to where I grew up and take some pictures. So here are a few from the small town where I grew up.....

Easington Colliery, Co Durham, UK....

This site was originally occupied by the Easington Colliery Coal Mine, when the profits were too small for the black suited boys they closed the pit. Now all that stands there is this monument to over 100 years of coal mining. It is in fact the cage used to carry the men (and equipment) up and down the south shaft... Including my father, brother and countless other relatives and friends.

The North East Coast.... From Hartlepool to Seaton Carew.

The Cage - looking south east

Seaton Carew - Beachcomber

a Beach Txt'er

Sunset @ dawn

I see no ships

Coughing horses and see-though students.

I'm on a training course (its a BMC Remedy course if ya must know and I'm on Day 8 of 10).....

So I have to be quick as I only have a few minutes between modules and Lab exercises (nothing to do with Labradors, no court orders were breached!) but the keyboard is SO loud that people are looking at me and today I'm pretending to be translucent.... not totally invisible cos that's silly, but just enough to get me on the news... think The Abyss or Donnie Darko

Then there's the fella sitting next to me... He's our assigned COUGHING MONKEY. I know every course, seminar, meeting, cinema, animal research lab and doctors surgery has to have its complement of coughers, but the one we've been assigned is attempting to launch a slice of his infected lung across the room and onto the whiteboard..... This is not a gentle "ahem" politely placed into a tissue or perhaps an enclosed hand, but what seems at first to be the death rattle from a wild horse just off my right shoulder.

Anyhow, its almost lunch time.... not much to report there, I did ask if the manky looking "lunch" had been tested on ex-Soviet Spies but I don't think they got it.

For Jillian (my niece)....and my sister Susan.

It seems an explanation is required for a previous post.

So, to answer your question... no.... no I'm not in love with the ex wife Linda. I may be "in love" with that particular time in my life, but its a far cry from actually being in love with someone I haven't seen or heard from in the last 13 years.

It has been suggested that if Linda was to "reappear" I'd drop everything to be with her. Hmmmm, that's an interesting one. I'd like nothing better than to meet up with Linda, I think she's got a lot of explaining to do, some of which could end the remorse and guilt I know she should be suffering from. But if the suggestion is that I'd give up "who I am" and "what I've got" to be with at best a liar and worst an internally deceased emotionally barren purveyor of STD's then some people need to update their perceptions........

(wow I just read that back... for someone who says he doesn't care I'm sure putting a lot of emotion into it! Yikes)

Anyhow, what you need to understand is that "those" people no longer exist, there is no-one to fall in love with.

There are three things you should never return to, no matter what.

1. A dud firework
2. An ex girlfriend (this includes Ex Wives who "re-appear" with delusional expectations)
3. A wounded Ninja

I hope that puts an end to any confusion about the ex wife.

@rse over tit....

I could of fallen off the bike, oh yes.... tight left hander, magnesium knee sliders spraying a shower of sparks into the air as the lean angle allows me to almost touch the hot tarmac.... As I concentrate my attention into the far distance I don't notice the smallest of diesel spills which has exactly the same dimensions as the credit card sized contact patch my front Avon uses to hold over 300lbs of racing machine (and human) to the road surface.. Within a fraction of a second the bike has low-sided and I'm sent spinning across the road, across on-coming traffic and into a variety of road furniture............

It could of been like that.....

but it wasn't.

I actually fell UP the stairs at work. Arse over tit. Latte in one hand, bacon and sausage bap in the other. The first thing to touch mother earth was my right knee cap, it slammed into the metal edge cover and then had the best part of 17 stones of pure British lard jack-hammer it home.

Yes... it hurt. I swore a lot.... repeatedly. The pain was so intense I almost lost grip of my bacon and sausage bap (the latte was mostly a stain on the wall at this point).

The security guard (who is stationed right next to the stairs) immediately called for the Duty First Aider, smart move you may think, only, I am the duty first aider..... After I stopped screaming I switched off my First Aid pager and returned to my "screaming like a little girl" routine until a small crowd had gathered.

Luckily, there was no claret, if there had been the screaming from me would of stopped sharpish as I passed out (as a first aider I can handle other peoples blood, but not my own). I could feel my knee cap swelling by the second and I could feel the unmistakable signs of shock welling within.... cold, clammy, gray skin and a raised heartbeat. I took refuge on a nearby couch just as one of our other first aiders arrived (thanks Ann!)

It was quickly established I needed a visit to E&A pretty sharpish, there was no way I was gonna waste a busted knee cap on an ambulance so Chuckie volunteered to drive my car with Ann and myself to St. Peter's Hospital.

After lots of poking about, x-rays and a heroic dose of painkillers it was established that I hadn't broken anything and it was no more than a very nasty sprain/twisted knee and severe bruising.
In good old NHS fashion I was fitted with a tubular bandage and a shiny pair of crutches and told to naff off home for tea and sympathy.

and thats where I am now, "working from home", high as a kite on Tramadol (Hmmmmm, t-r-a-m-a-d-o-l) nursing a right knee cap the size of one arse cheek while watching daytime TV.

The killer stairs, tried to take me and my bacon & sausage bap OUT.... not forgetting my knee cap

I was never told what happened to my bacon and sausage bap. We went through a lot that day.

I'M BARRY SCOTT..... I SAID I'M BARRY SCOTT!

So I have a thing about cleaning.... I do take an unhealthy interest in cleaning products and can sometimes be found in the household cleaning isle at Tesco's gently caressing various bottles of detergent....... in a non sexual way you understand.

I still get thrown out by security, but only if they are new in the job, the regulars just move me along with a pointy stick

Anyhow, I don't expect you to understand, only me and Barry Scott know the real buzz a Universal De-greaser can give (again, it's nothing sexual...)

So, there's a new TV advert for Cillit Bang Lime & Grime..... but there's something wrong. I think Barry may be suffering from hearing loss. Why? well, just listen to this advert..... try not to swayed by Cillit Bang's amazing cleaning power, it's Barry's shouting that's in question.


You see! He just SHOUTS throughout the advert, and its not the first time I've noticed this. It's that poor lass standing right next to him I feel sorry for, she probably shat herself at the first take.

What is one to do?

So, I find myself with nothing better to do than blog.

It's never a good way to blog (for me anyhow). I know it will turn out to be rubbish, far too long and will stay on my site abusing my eyes for days.

That's why I could never be a professional writer. There are many things preventing me from doing this (list far too long to put here) but the biggest hurdle for me would be writing about stuff I'm not interested in, to a deadline and with a word count........ which pretty much puts a stop to that career.... but let me give you an example......

The ongoing battle for power with the Democrats and Republicans and recent mid term elections* as reported by our man on the street "The Man From Delmonti"

"Fat hairy knackers with the lot of them. Dull, corporate soul-les suckers of Satan's genitalia everyone of them. Don't vote because it only encourages them..... it's your democratic right after all"

See! I'd be pushing a shopping trolley and routing through bins within a week.

If you wanna know how writing should be done, by a REAL professional writer, then pop over to Kat's gaff and check it out.





*if any of this text is wrong, then blame my US of A work colleague (Mike) who gave me the technical info about US politics.

If there was a drug.....

The sun is low, there’s a slight frost. I stand at the window, it’s cold. Cold enough to warrant a sly smile, the kind that you know has come from a past memory.

I see me now, looking from my window, grey and alone. But it’s not what I see in my heart, I see me at age 23, looking from a different window onto a different scene but lit in exactly the same way.

My silent here-and-now world is in stark contrast to the one I’m re-living in my minds eye. There’s the empty but running Ford Escort that holds my attention, I started the engine, turned on the heaters then re-entered the house and took up my position at the window, watching the car as the windscreen defrosted….. and waiting for Linda before we drive into Durham.

I’m almost 40

and occasionally, I still find myself waiting for her.

The song in my head right now was written for me sometime ago
This is The Truth, written and performed by Goober

...

...

Jotter

Things to do this weekend....

1. Chubby Brown gig at Croydon
2. Photo session at Polesden Lacy
3. Propose new governmental regime after a civil war/coup I'm planning in the UK. I dont want to give the game away just yet as I'm still trying to figure out how to avoid UK Hate Laws especially the "Incitement to cause violence" bit. I feel a Civil War/Coup seldom works without some violence and a well managed leaflet drop
   
4. Clean the bathroom
5. Point and stare at passers-by from my window

It's gonna be a busy one...

The seed has been planted.....

My next big purchase* is gonna be an Apple Mac.

I'm done with Microsoft and Windows XP, it's just too fat and retarded. I spend far too much time, effort and money keeping it all together.....

MS have missed an opportunity with Vista and they are ignoring the home user. An operating system is supposed to help the user not be an obstacle.

It's time to move on.... but which Mac?

Don't want the Mini - its too small (expandability wise)

iMac - Don't need to buy another LCD display, and its not very expandable

Power Mac - It's expandable, I can use my own LCD...but I don't have £4k burning a hole in my pocket

*next big purchase. This is wishful thinking as I'm skint.

Comments

I've been told "It's why we blog". It's a kind of applause I guess.

Just having "hits" to your blog isn't enough really, you like to know that somewhere out there someone is thinking "I'll just take a look and see if there's anything new at whats-his-faces blog". Even better if they take the time to leave a comment (if you missed that, ITS A HINT TO LEAVE ME A COMMENT)

A few days ago I got "tagged" by another blogger. "Dr John" (who purports to be a man of the cloth) has some sort of game where he asks his blog readers to visit a blogger site and leave a message to gain "JC" points that could win you a prize.

Dr John does point out that its only for fun, the prizes certainly corroborate this, a "Saffron Bun" being one of the better prizes (that's what he says!... I dont even know what one is)..... even so, Dr John does have a large congregation and they've taken his advice and visited yours truly.

Admittedly, most of the visitors that have left a message are not interested in anything I have to say and deposit a message just to receive their "JC" points, absolutely nothing wrong with that. The main point is that they left a message, and that message was "you exist"

What I'd like you to do, in return, is visit Dr John and leave him a comment, just mention you've come from this blog.... a round of applause if you like (and no, there arnt any prizes, sorry)

Last second of the minute.....

...thats the time to begin it.

Available to download from most on-line vendors today
(there's a live version on there, with me as special "kit-setter-upper" guest*)









* probably

EDIT: I've just been informed that the "Miles and Dray" picture on the cover could very easily be in next months Viz..... in the column entitled "Up the Arse Corner".

Quote from Wikipedia about Viz... "There's also 'Up The Arse Corner', where photographs are submitted of people whose pose, and/or facial expression, could be misconstrued as being in the midst of an act of buggery."

Looking at it now even the title seems a little suspicious......

.......damn. It's all spoilt now.

What's he for?

No, I have no idea either Maude, its just bollocks isn’t it?. God only knows who the hell he thinks he is with all this dreadful drivel.

I mean, have you looked at some of this stuff? Is it supposed to mean anything? Is it supposed to be deep? trivial? shocking? It’s a load of gob-shite if you ask me.

It’s just post after post after post of whingeing….. He must think he’s the only one with problems. If its all that bad he should go and do something about it, and I don’t mean another ranting post…… at least we’d all be one car length up in traffic tomorrow.

Miserable git that he is. He’s not happy unless he’s bitching about someone or other. What he needs to do is take a long good look in the mirror….. that’s if he can find one big enough.

His first wife left him…… yes……. Had to move away, change her name…… had her eyes sucked out and replaced with hot toffee apples just in case she ever saw his twisted face again. Tragic it was…… made her “fear for her own safety”

Anyhow, I don’t think it can go on for much longer, I heard rumours that he’s not all there if you get my drift. They say personal hygiene is the first sign, once that’s gone there’s no stopping the out of control spiral into deep and dark depression. Couldn’t happen to a better person I say….. I SAID IT COULDN’T HAPPEN TO A BETTER PERSON.

MAUDE!..... do keep up dear.

5 Liverpools, 0 Failure

There's this fella I know..... His name is Philip Bimpson... He's gonna visit all the "Liverpools" the world has to offer in celebration of Liverpool (the original one in England) Cities 800th birthday in 2007.

Phil is many things, doctor, dentist and architect... probably, but recently he's been getting involved in the wider world of "media".... and this is his latest venture.

Good luck Phil, I'll be keeping an eye out for more of your updates.

Picture from the BBC's "The Experiment" where Phil and myself were prisoners for a week

I really have nothing useful to say...

If it looks like I'm doing something else, or I don't answer you when you expect, its probably because the implications of telling you to go take your pointless blabber somewhere else would cause difficulties I'm too lazy to fix.... so.....

As a guide, these are the things I'm simply not interested in...

You
Your boyfriend
Kent
Your new job
Your old job
How you're feeling

It's a broad list, but I think it covers most things you have to say. Basically, cutting out anything that involves you talking about yourself should reduce global greenhouse gasses by at least 20% ..... and possibly your ego by 90%.........


If only you came with a mute button

Professor Plum, in the Kitchen, with the Lead Pipe

Damn I hate my job..... no thats not right, start again..

Damn I hate people..... no, thats too generalist (but only just), another go...

Damn I hate managers...... yes, I think I've got it.... yep, perfect. I can continue.

As you can tell, it's a Monday. It's become a bit of a sideshow, me ranting about something or other, saying something true but taboo and having to buy some over-sensitive workshy fop a latte before the righteous-but-wrong mob have me ASBO'd


So, what got me annoyed this morning? My manager. To say he's an arse is to insult arseholes everywhere.... Most arseholes do a fine job of keeping shite inside (mostly), whereas my boss dilates fully and spews forth a steady stream of infected verbal diarrhea any Shigella Bacterium would be envious of.

So, as you can tell, he has the ability to wind me up at the drop of a hat... and he knows it. Thats why he booked a "one-to-one" meeting with me last week for this morning at 9.30am... making sure my Sunday night was spent "de-venting" and hiding blunt objects.... and then promptly postponing it 2 mins before kick-off..... He did this electronically so as not to face me... and without any apologies or explanation....

Anyone seen a length of pipe? probably has ginger matted hair stuck to one end?

Beta-Bloggers

Hmmmm, I had no idea Blogger had all these new ideas for updating their service. I logged on yesterday and was presented with a screen asking if I wanted to move my blog over to the new structure. At first I thought "knackers to that, it'll screw up everything I've built so far"..... but after getting pissed off at various people I though I'd take the plunge and have my whole day go horribly wrong.

Well, it didn't. I managed to incorporate almost everything I had on the old blog without too much trouble, even my GeoData and map survived.

I have to say the best feature to be added to the new Blog is the ability to add labels to a post. This gives me a change to categorise posts, which makes them a little easier to find later on. I also like the "Feeds" section, this enables you to add a live feed to the side bar which is dynamically updated (I think its dynamically updated, I haven't checked it).... This section will be for privileged sites only, so Mell, Pete and Russ consider your Blogs special... at least to me.

Interlope..... not antelope

Thank feck its a Miles Hunt Solo gig night.

I've reached my limit of having to put up with "people" and need to have my internals straightened. Only two things can do this for me, a Miles Hunt solo gig or "heroic" amounts of Lithium intended for the dangerously bewildered.

Luckily for the dangerously bewildered, the Half Moon in Putney have Milo on stage at 8pm tonight.

Unfortunately I have to stay sober as I'll be driving, not something I like to do at a Miles Putney gig but I've no choice as everyone I hold dear* has decided a Monday night infront of the telly is more appealing..... I cant begin to tell you the bile I'm spewing forth over this right now..... your ears (if you actually had ears) should be glowing white hot right now.

I'd normally plaster this page with references to websites, ticket outlets, venues, promotions...... but why bother? you lot wouldnt look if your entire future happiness depended on it....




*I dont hold anyone of drinking age dear..... except when I need a lift to the Half Moon in Putney to see a Miles Hunt solo gig.. My shallowness is exceeded only by my utter contempt for public transport.

Mr Creosote

It's day 4 in house......

*Fourth day of my "Man Flu"... and its taken a turn for the worse. Worse because I've just lobbed me guts up, it wasn't pretty, and for a moment I thought I was dying... It's surprising what runs through your head when confronted with copious amounts of bile, mucus and half a liter of strawberry whole grain yoghurt.

An hour after that, it was my bowels turn. I think I need a mid-section transplant as I seem to be dissolving from the inside out.

Coughing and sneezing now requires thought and preparation.







*I can only do this 'cos I have moments of clarity, most of the time I feel like death. I ache all over, coughing fills my rib cage with a searing pain I simply cant describe and I've no energy to walk further than the bathroom. Yes, it's proper Man-Flu

messages of sympathy and occasional sex greatfully accepted.

Biohazard!

I'm writing this from my pit... I'm hold up because I've contracted the flu.... straight from the devils own arse it would appear.

Now, I've got a bit of a phobia about having a blocked nose.... When I'm full of snot I can get a little anxious and sleep is out of the question... which just exacerbates the illness.

So, I have to "entertain" myself during the nights until the bunged up phase moves on... thankfully, this time its only been for one night.

But last night was very odd. I was running a temperature and feeling battered and bruised, every movement was painful especially clearing my rancid and heavily infected throat. I dosed myself up on Lemsip and Sudafed and went to bed.

I remember tossing (careful!) and turning and having real ghoulish dreams. Having to change the duvet at one point 'cos I'd perspired it to death........

I'm also On Call...... and the inevitable happened, a call at 4.20am... I've vague recollections of talking, and especially trying to bring myself round to understand what my colleague was saying. It didn't work, I think I just gave up in the end, apologised and put the phone down.... I guess on Monday I'll be hauled over the coals about it...... which may result in me gobbing into the air-con intakes.


Revenge is a yellow and green phlegm ball.

One in a million....

Bill Oddie

Once again I have been stunned by my managers ability and talent. For instance, just the other day I was informed of his somewhat hidden talent of mimicking the calls of wild birds.....

sometimes, in meetings, you'd swear there was a tit in the room with you.

Royston Vasey

I read a book!

Actually I read a lot of books.... well I try to read a lot of books, it just that most of the ones I get my hands on tend to be pointless drivel that have me wishing for temporary blindness (just about anything to do with Stephen King comes to mind)

Anyhow, I was in Tesco's a few weeks ago and came across Roy "Chubby" Brown's autobiography, it had a tenner knocked off so I thought I'd give it a go... especially as he's done a lot of his growing up in the North East.

Now, if you haven't heard of Chubby Brown its probably best that you just move on, he isn't for you, especially if you are southern or female or just so stuck up your own arse you'll complain at anything just so you can hear your own voice..... there are exceptions to this rule, but tend to be few and far between.

Chubbs is a comedian, a northern comedian. He specialises in "blue" comedy and lobs in the odd song along the way..... and this is the reason you probably haven't seen him, he does not do telly but does do a roaring trade in DVD's of his shows.

Anyhow, his book is a damn good read and tracks his life from childhood to the present day. It follows his home life and career and documents his battle with cancer.

So, I read the book in record time and decided to send Chubbs an e-mail telling him how much I enjoyed his book..... and now my e-mail is part of his marketing! How bloody great is that!

I'm off to see him live soon, should be a hoot

Being 6....

There's a ton of stuff that's great about being six.

Six has to be one of the best ages to be, if I could have it all again, I'd like it to start at six.

Love for a start is unconditional, no matter what size shape colour or creed your parents are, you just love them.

Emotions are something to be tried on like dressing up clothes whenever the fancy takes you..... especially in Tesco's

Flying around the dinner table pretending to be a Spitfire/Fire Engine/Ballerina is considered perfectly normal as is pushing your whole head into a bowl of custard.... both of which I have urges to do on a regular basis (not too keen on the ballerina one tho')

Falling asleep in mid conversation.... although I have to confess this is something I still do, especially when confronted on issues like football, fashion or Tivoli

Asking the meaning of swear words, its starts at 6 and continues throughout life.

Finding inventive new ways of not having to wash or clean your teeth

Best of all tho': all problems can be overcome by a hug from mam or dad

My little fruitloop has reminded me how fantastic life can be, if only we could stay 6 forever...

Shut up ya girl

my manager couldnt find his own arse with both hands

Gerry Anderson is innocent

Steve Irwin: Self professed "Crocodile Hunter" died during filming.

I'm no fan of this fella, I just feel for his two children who now have to grow up without a father.

I've got nothing against wildlife conservation, and I too love wildlife documentaries, but there's a breed of presenter out there now that is taking the piss..... and one of them was Mr Irwin.

You didn't have to be the sharpest tool in the shed to work out where his career was heading, it was only a matter of time before Mr Irwin rediscovered the true meaning of "Dangerous" & "Wild" when pissing around with these animals.

Some say Mr Irwin taught us a lot about wild animals...... I don't think he did, I already know that snakes, crocodiles, lions, tigers, spiders.....(basically, anything that lives in water or in the jungle) and now, Stingray are the main reasons some of us developed larger brains and now live in gated communities and drive around in LandRover Discoveries.

Mr Irwin tried his best to sensationalise these animals by performing stunts, he even involved his month old son at one point. He became famous not for his unrivaled knowledge of these dangerous creatures, but for the guy who "just might get eaten live on TV"


.

Pete Moore found in a pool of his own vomit. Thats a lot of vomit, even at the shallow end.

I had a call this morning......

"Hi, thought I'd better let you know that Pete was found drunk and unconscious this morning and was taken to A&E in Liverpool..... I think he'd been to a gig"

Eh? Pete Moore? Drunk? Hospital?.......... Liverpool?........ why tell me?........ which gig?..... who'd he seen?......and what the feck is that smell*?


Oh, I get it, its a dream!...... bollocks, now I'm gonna have to wake up, I'm gonna have to make sense of this, there's no way I can continue with this dream, its just too weird.

It is.... weird. I don't usually remember my dreams, the ones I do remember are usually to do with family or musicians.... and they are nearly always shrouded in oddness and mist. But this morning it was all in HD-Ready-42"-LCD-Plasma vision.

So, Pete, if you could shed some light on why I'm being woken in the early hours of the morning with alarming news like this, then I'd be very thankful.

Picture: Pete Moore just before setting off for Liverpool to see Peters & Lee in concert......in my head.

*smell: sweet tobacco, like a pipe.

I have distemper, parvo.... and a huge infestation of worms

At what point in your life do you stop controlling yourself and begin "Who You Really Are"?

I say that because no matter how I try I simply cant help telling it how it is.... I seem to have a ceiling for how many fuckwits or arseholes that get in my way, and when that number is up I simply explode and shower everyone in the vicinity with vitriol and bits of spleen.

It's not getting any better, in fact its getting worse. As I get older I'm attracting arseholes quicker than a tub of vaseline outside a public toilet. They are everywhere, where I live, where I work, where I bank, they stand in front of me at the checkout, they use the elevator to go one floor..... they know my phone number and e-mail address... they are even in my shaving mirror.

So, is this just me? Have I reached that certain age? Like an old mad dog, should I be chained to a post in the back garden? half blind, half lame, left to bark for hours on end at empty crisp packets that dare to invade my domain?






To be honest, I'm there already. I'm just waiting for the vet to turn up, hypodermic at the ready.

feck...

My PC's buggered.

First, my system drive passed away..... then the mother board died of shame. Of course, being in the industry and knowing how dodgy hardware can be when you really rely on it, I took all of my collective 20 odd years knowledge on backup principle and procedure and totally fecking ignored it.

So, I got a hammer and reduced my Shuttle XPC back to its component parts..... then spent 45 mins picking silicone and capacitors outta the carpet..... it's at times like these I wish I still had a wife to slap.

no bloody wonder

When I was a kid I was told that by the time I'm 40 I'll be holidaying on the moon..... and there'd be no need for huge amounts of illegally obtained valium to get me through take off 'cos everyone would be beamed there.......

I'd planned my whole life around the luner vacation industry....... lying bastards....

Well done Blackburn......

for possibly THE most scary gig I've been to. I did take photo's but to be honest, they aren't worth showing.

Blackburns free festival probably sounds like a great idea on paper, but when you open the beer tent at 10.30 am you can pretty much guarentee most of the audience will be lying in pools of their own piss and vomit when the headline acts appear.

And it was just that, I quick stroll around the field at 6pm and if it wasn't for the myriad of lurid coloured shirts, flip-flops and fat birds with their beer guts hanging out it would of looked like a battlefield. Add to that the overflowing "Lost Children" tent awash with abandoned "mistakes" and I think you get the picture.

The Cops decided to make "camp" within the artists area backstage which gave the crews a fantastic insight into the inner workings of how to disable a drunken fuckwit with nothing more than four O'levels and a blunt object.

Anyhow, here's a picture of my cat.

Fat Hairy Knackers.

You know.... some people are just plain rude.

It's like an episode of "Changing Rooms".... from the viewers point of view, it all looks remarkably splendid, expensive and regal. But when you look a little closer you find sticky-backed-plastic, yards of MDF and gallons of dogs hockle holding everything together.

To say the shine is beginning to dim is an understatement.

This man is a twat

Careful what you wish for....

20 years ago I made a wish. I wished for a chance to play on stage with The Wonder Stuff.... and its kinda come true. I always thought of myself and Goober would somehow end up playing with TWS. Admittedly, I thought we'd have instruments and would be joining in and making the music, instead we find ourselves tech'ing together for Miles, Malc, Andres, Mark and Erica on this years 2006 Suspended by Stars Summer tour.

So, here's to my brother-from-another-mother..... dont dump on the bus and bring lots of gaffa tape and lashings of Ginger Beer.

The Wonder Stuff.....

Well, I'm Tech'ing again.....

Tomorrow is the first of nine TWS gigs I'll be drum tech'ing for. So, if you'vbe got a ticket for the Rock Cafe in Stourbridge or Guilfest (in Guildford) then I might see ya there.

Love, Light and Laughter.....

Only time can heal....

"Only Time Can Heal...."

Looking back, its the only thing I've found to be true. Especially when a major tragedy hits. Sure, sedatives will dull the senses, alcohol will temporally remove you from the situation and friends/relatives will rally round to give "support", but at some point, you're gonna have to face and embrace the inevitable pain and suffering a loss will bring.

Time ticks on and the world still spins, you don’t understand why no-one else around is hurting, surly, with this much pain there has to be overspill, passers by should be doubled up in agony when they are near, birds should be dropping from the sky, milk should curdle and fruit rot....

But it doesn’t, and you resent it. You resent the whole f*&king world.

Some people have been through this.. and some.. today.. have just started this hateful journey.

It has a start and sometimes a finish, but only time can heal.







My thoughts are with you and your family.

JOGLE '06

We did it!!

John O’Groats to Lands End sponsored motorcycle ride within 24 hours. What a hoot, what an adventure, what a sore arse I’ve got!

Yes, we completed the journey in 17hrs, setting off from John O’Groats at 3.30am and arriving at Lands End at 8.30pm. That’s a total of 874.2 miles according to my GPS.

Not only did we hit our target of £3000 for Breast Cancer Support groups, but we doubled it!!!!! How bloody marvellous is that?!?!

As an added bonus no-one fell off or crashed, ran out of petrol, got lost or otherwise.

I spent some quality time with a bunch of Lords for a cause that needs supporting.

So……

John Webster, Karen Webster, Michael Darby, Nick Corney, Martin Dartmouth, Howard Dixon, Tim Goodman, and not forgetting the organiser and run leader Rex Hawkes (aka The Marathon Man)

I salute you!

If lots of people do it, it becomes ok... as long as its not you being hurt

I nearly lost me little girl this week and there’s no evidence that she’s gonna be around in the near future. Em’s mother has decided that she wants to move in with her new boyfriend. This would mean moving away from her established “support group”, Emily’s school (where she is doing great), her friends and grand parents including me. Individually, each one of these would be devastating to Em, but put them all together and you end up with a potential disaster. Of course, the new boyfriend refused to even consider moving away from his ex-wife and children (who live in the next street from him and have keys to each others houses) and extended family to be with Em's mom

Emily’s mother isn’t stupid, she insisted she knows my views on this knowing I’d probably fly into a rage at the thought of another man bringing up my daughter as his own while he pops round to the ex wife’s to do a little decorating (you know what I mean, “just popping round the X’s to fill a crack in the bedroom, wont be long”). Em’s mom uses this technique of getting me pissed off to convince herself I’m the baddie and what she decides to do is right…. So this time I didn’t play, I kept calm and just told her the facts…..

Fact 1: He won’t move in with Em’s mom because he doesn’t want to move away from his family. This can also be read thus: You’re not good enough to move away for.

Fact 2: Moving Emily away from her school will interfere with her Schooling and tear her away from friends

Fact 3: Emily’s grand parents will no longer see Emily, neither of them have access to a car, public transport is at least 2 hours away.

Fact 4: Em’s mom doesn’t drive. She will have to stay at home and look after his children/house

Fact 5: Em’s mom doesn’t know what split his marriage therefore has no idea of his track record.

Fact 6: Emily will become a second class citizen in his house… It’s NOT his child, his biological children WILL come first

Fact 7: She is moving away from her support network into an unknown environment

Fact 8: Emily WILL kick back

Of course, I’m only Emily’s Dad, I have no legal say in any of this. I have to sit and watch my little girl drive away with her new Daddy….. and continue to pay for her upbringing and hope I still get to see her occasionally.

I’ve been told Emily’s mom (and Em) are not moving now, they are staying where they are. I don’t believe this for a moment. I know how she works, she will be looking to justify her actions in any way she can.

Next year, there will be a new name on Emily’s Fathers Day card.

In need of some help....

I'll be taking part in a charity ride in aid of Breast Cancer Support and need some help. I, along with a few other IAM members will be riding from John O'Groats to Land's End, a total of approx. 850+ miles within 24 hours.

We aim to raise £3000. It's a lot of cash, but it's needed. Breast Cancer, if caught early enough is a very very treatable disease. Please help me by lobbing some wonga in my general direction.

You can do this by simply catching me in the street, at work or on the lavatory and forcing me to have some cash.

If you're geographically challenged then simply goto our Charity Donation website and scrape some plastic into the coffers.

yes, it is a bloody long way, about 850 miles, lots of fuel, possible RTA's and soreness
and remember, I'm doing this on my Honda Super Blackbird, not a poncy Hardly Ableson*






*if offended, please donate £50 to my sponsorship and I'll remove it.....

It must be the permissive society......

This is the bit where you get a little nervous, the bit where you know someone may get a little offended when you tell them directing may not be the thing for them....

Just as well Habeas Corpus from the Ottershaw Players was an absolute blinder for me.

I'm not a theatre go'’er, it's was never part of my growing up you see. A theatre to me was a bingo hall, full to the brim with cackling fishwives.

Anyhow, seeing as I'’ve not seen a huge amount of theatre, and the fact Pete is a good mate of mine I was a little apprehensive going along to the opening night.... I had previously seen an Amdram play about 6 months previous, I'’ll not mention what the play was or who was playing, but I did come away feeling that the "Amateur" part of Amdram had been well catered for.

So there I was, in the Rhoda McGaw Theatre, waiting to be entertained.. ... and heavens to Betsy was I entertained. It was a corker, hats of to Mr Bennett for a great play, but I do get the impression that most credit has to go to the cast and Pete'’s direction.

The best part for me was the believability of the characters, there wasn'’t one bad performance, but there were more than a few outstanding ones..
Matthew Horton did a fantastic job of Sir Percy Shorter, the twitch, the pompous attitude and not forgetting the very large chip on his diminutive shoulders was simply a joy to watch.
My other personal favourite was Lady Delia Rumpers played by Danny Sparks, she simply had me giggling like a girl as she had more than a passing resemblance to Mrs Slocombe on one of her days off, fantastic stuff.

To sum up, I had a great time. The Ottershaw Players with a little help from Alan Bennett and Peter Moore gave the gift of entertainment and laughter on a otherwise dull Wednesday night, marvellous, bloody marvellous.

Last but certainly not least, Alison Byers who plays Muriel Wicksteed.... I do hope that those are stunt boobs being thrown around so enthusiastically! It'’s the first time I've winced and laughed like a drain in ages.

Sometimes.....

Just dont even think about it. It's more addictive than directing your own play. I'm on about reviewing and editing your own DV tapes from 8 years ago. There's just so much stuff to go through.

Anyhow, here's one from the last nights tape, a tape I thought I'd lost years ago. Recorded at Skyline Studios at Epsom in July 1999.

On this one you'll find Goober, Keith Small (Pants Dance), Jez (Skyline Engineer) , our very own PT and some rare appearances of Rob Web (semi naked door puller) and some fat baldy bloke in a Sunderland top making a tit of himself.

There's a lot of it about.....

yes.... its another vid. The reason for all this stuff is I'm transferring the best part of about 30 DV tapes to HD and eventually disk, and sometimes I just get bored and play around with the effects board until something odd happens.

so.... here's one I did this evening..

I dream of work....

Sorry about the rain......

It's my fault. It always pisses down when I have to take the bike in for a service.....

Live people ignore the strange and unusual

What the hell am I doing here? Sometimes it's like I've woken from a twelve year coma… colostomy bag fitted and unable to walk due to muscle wastage….. a dribbling idiot, unable to quit describing something that should of stopped a few badly constructed sentences ago.

I think I'm having withdrawal symtoms from Antihistermines..... I got an itch inside my bladder I just cant reach.

Better days?

Sometimes, you look within yourself to find the right kind of words to give the people you love. I was never gifted enough to express the kind of emotion I feel, thats why all my heros are musicians.....

Lyrics and music are my emotions. They have the ability to speak in volumes what I feel and want to say. The following fits with Who I Am and Where I want To Be.... right now.

And you ask me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days
Cuz I don't need boxes wrapped in strings
And desire and love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days

So take these words
And sing out loud
Cuz everyone is forgiven now
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again

And it's someplace simple where we could live
And something only you can give
And thats faith and trust and peace while we're alive

Goo Goo Dolls: Better Days

Near 40 year old draws cock on ballot paper.....

Yes I know, it's not big and its not clever...... but it is.... me.

Yesterday was Local Elections day, a day when you get to vote for the person you want in control at the local council offices.

Normally, I don't like to vote as it just encourages them (politicians that is), but it was sunny and I could pop into the pub on the way.... I would need a few pints to put me in the mood.

So, I sit down with a pint of Landlord and begin reading a piece in the Express about the General Strike that took place 80 years ago to the day.... moving stuff I can tell ya, every port in the UK had a British war ship in situ with guns pointing land-ward, army and police on the streets and the aristocracy "sooting" up just in case the revolution came (9 years previous the Russian Revolution had taken place, nasty affair, lots of very angry people and all that stuff).

So, I had to have another pint and began thinking of all the struggles people had been through for me to have my vote.... I was stirred up, I was determined to make my mark (ie, a cross on the ballot paper).

I waddled off to the polling station and got my voting paper..... I was shocked..... normally, there's about a dozen candidates on there, the three main parties, a few independents and a handful of nutters but this time there was only two! I even looked about my feet in case I'd dropped part of the voting paper but no..... there was only two on there........

And guess what, they were Conservative and Liberal.... thats it, no more. As far as I'm concerned thats not a choice.......

So, being the mature responsible adult I am........ a drew a huge cock on the ballot paper.

I toyed with the idea of staying up all night just so I could catch Jonathon Dimbleby announce the results for the Runnymede and Weybridge ward.... "....and results just in for Runnymede and Weybridge.... Conservatives 106,452...... Liberals 24,901...... and one feck-off huge hand-drawn cock"

RESULTS: Conservatives got in again..... heres to more empty office blocks and Luxury housing.... feckers.

Sequent Computer Systems: Lobbing it in the bin.

Ah yes, I can hear it now...... "hell man, I used to work there!" and "hell man, they cant do that" and "hell man, haven't they dumped all that crap by now"

Whatever your thoughts, the old IS Computer room in Weybridge will be cleared out this week, to make room for a small coconut grove and putting green.

So I thought I'd take a few bad quality photos on my phone and post them up. I've stuck them on Flickr so you can add "witty" notes yourselves... and maybe even remind me what those off-white boxes were called and used for.

If you have no idea what I'm on about then thats fine, just bugger off and go look at porn or something


Click on the image below to wizz off to Flickr and have a butchers at the photos.

Self Help

In 1882 Samuel Smiles (great surname) in his book "Self Help" declared:

"that nothing creditable can be accomplished without application and diligence, that we must not be daunted by difficulties, but conquer them by patience and perseverance, and that, above all, we must seek elevation of character"

...you would not believe it... I've just had to type this out TWICE as I accidently deleted the first post.... I think someOne, somewhere, is trying to tell me something.

It's just not a good quote without something being conquered*

*PT....please refrain from any horse chestnut related conker jokes..... and dont ask how I knew you were thinking of them, I just know these things.

Thankyou Ms Moore!

Yes, cheers Jo!

On your recommendation I took my little fruitloop off to Wakehurst Place on Saturday.... and it was great. But as usual with crap Dads I didn't plan ahead and forgot to ask her mum to pack some wet or cold weather stuff.... and it was bloody cold, but we endured and enjoyed a little.



In fact, I decided to join the National Trust there and then.... I think it may come in handy as I can now get free entry to hundreds of stately homes without pretending to be Rose from Upstairs Downstairs....... I've even got a car sticker which gives me free parking on top of windy hills in the middle of nowhere.....

I can hardly wait!

Saint George - Patron Saint of Syphillis

Hmmm, Sunday will be Saint George's Day - Patron St. Of England

Yes, thats right...... That bloke who kills dragons and saves the damsel in distress is also the bloke to seek out if you've gotton yourself a dose of the pox. In fact, it gets better, cos' the fella is also the patron St. for all skin rashes and diseases ...... including Leprosy (calling leprosy a "skin rash" does belittle it a tad, but you get the drift I expect)

Now this really IS the kind of Saint I'd want for England.... I've no idea how you go about getting a patronage for a Saint, but I think we should also include Shell Suits and Burberry as part of George's Patronage collection.

So, in honor of our great nation and it's ravenous appetite for other peoples culture I'd like to share with you what I think "being English" really is....

"Being English is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for a Belgian beer... then traveling home and grabbing an Indian curry or a Turkish kebab on the way, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch American shows on a Japanese TV.

And the most English thing of all?

Suspicion of anything foreign "

*and yes, I guess I am English. Does that make me proud? No not really, my pride lies in my children, and one day England will be proud of them.

It's consuming my every thought....

He's gonna have to go.... probably

I simply cant be arsed with anyone under the age of 25, they are just too high maintenance.

Who am I talking about? well, its the new "flatmate". He's just a bloody nightmare and will have to go.... even tho' I've already told him he'll have to leave by the end of June (for other reasons). I may have to revise that to the end of next month.

I cant be wandering around after him picking up his dirty plates, cleaning the kitchen after he's used it and cleaning out the shower after he's been in it. Not to mention having to empty his clothes from the washing machine because he cant be arsed to do it himself.

I've told him once.... in the nicest kind of way, but I'm in two minds as to whether to tell him again or just give him his notice to leave.....I really don't want to have this hassle at all, I've much more serious things to think about

I've already had to restrict the amount of PC's he got on at once (only 1 DHCP address now active).... he's got a multiscreen PC under his desk in the living room along with a Multi Media Mini PC which is switched on over night and when he's away, not to mention his laptop in his room. It's like living with a teenager, constantly having to remind him to switch off lights, PC's and ovens (yes, he can retrieve his food from the oven but unable to switch it off).

It's a lack of respect and common decency. I'm no teacher, but if any of my kids turn out like him, I'd be ashamed to let them outta the house.

And the sun that beats on the window

In the morning is a doorway

And the sun that calls through the window

Every morning is a doorway

Just like the Queen, he's 80!

George Dawson…. 80 years old

To be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to a long weekend in Peterlee with the relatives. It’s a 5 hour drive and I’d have Emily with me. I’ve done the drive hundreds of times and it isn’t really all that bad, but how would a five year old cope?

Well, I need not of worried, she loved every minute of it… at least the bits that she was awake for. Meeting the rest of the “Dawsons” was another concern. It’s not that they are bad, mad or a tad sad…. It’s just that I don’t know who the hell they are. I have vague recollections of cousins, aunties and uncles but because of various family feuds in the past no-one has ever kept in touch. If it wasn’t for the odd one karking it every now and again I think we’d all prefer to forget about it all.

But that’s not gonna happen this weekend as it’s my Dad’s 80^th birthday and I’d promised to bring Emily up to meet the family.

There was one aspect of all this I was pleased about, and that’s “Our Susan” (the alpha female of the Dawson troop). I’ve put “Our Susan” in quotes ‘cos apparently southerners don’t use the “our” terminology when talking about their siblings, it’s a northern thing apparently….. Anyhow, for as long as I can remember “Our Susan” has had a thing about owning and maintaining children…. any children, doesn’t matter if they belong to her or not, she just loves kids…. Coming from a very close knit mining community this came in very handy for anyone living in the proximity of “Our Susan”, as she would always “look after the little’un while whoever popped off to the shops for a pound of pease pudding and a dozen flat caps”…. Her house was always full of kids, snotty nosed little gits…. each and everyone of ‘em.

So, “Our Susan” knows all the tricks of the trade in keeping a little five year-old girl happy, so after a complete new hair-do and different nail designs “Our Susan” had a new admirer.

Maybe I’ll continue this at a later date as I can see this could go on for some time. The last thing I want is for you to look at this and feel like its “homework”

Monkey Tennis

How bloody dismal eh?

It's Easter Sunday..... blokes all over the country are having a great time with their families while I sit here, on me tod. Not strictly all my own fault of course, Emily is having a great time in Italy with her mother and visiting dubious-not-really-related-family and I'm on-call which means I cant naff off on the bike to someplace more twisty....

Oh well, never mind then. I'll do something pointless, unproductive and time consuming then... That's it I got it! I'll piss off to Monkey World* in Dorset......

So, that's exactly what I did.... I set the Sat-Nav and off I went...

I think this is Amy.... or it might be Ro-ro. I dont mean to be ape-ist, but they all look the same to me

Monkey World is an Ape Rescue Center in the UK..... It was brought to my attention by my Tivo some months back when it decided to record several episodes of a program called "Monkey Business" on the Animal Planet channel. I'm addicted, but confused as Animal Planet show the episodes in no particular order.... very odd indeed.

Is there anyone here?

Wow..... that was a bit of a pause.

It's been yonks since I posted, well, what the feck, it's my blog......

Quick summary....

New Car
New PC
New CD's
New iPod
New lodger

................ old man.

None of the above have anything to do with me Dad's "investment"

I'll probably elaborate at some point.... but it'll probably turn into a rant or two.

I thought I had something really useful to say

He will be missed......

Wonder Stuff drummer dies at 41

Former Wonder Stuff drummer Martin Gilks has died a in a London hospital
following a motorcycle accident.
The band enjoyed success in the early 1990s with hits such as The Size Of
A Cow and Welcome To The Cheap Seats.

After the group split in 1994 Gilks, 41, went into management, working
with rock bands A, Reef and Hundred Reasons.

A spokesperson for his company, Furtive, said: "He was greatly loved by
many and will be sorely missed by all his family and friends."

Gilks also featured in 1980s indie band The Mighty Lemon Drops before he
joined the Wonder Stuff, who were formed in Stourbridge, West Midlands.

After a brief reunion for live shows in 2000, vocalist Miles Hunt revived
the Wonder Stuff name in 2004, but with a different line-up.

Gilks died at St George's Hospital, Tooting, on Monday of internal
injuries following Sunday's accident. He leaves a son and daughter.

A book of condolences has been opened here


"shut up....... grow up....... and get off the f*cking car"

Giggling like a girl.....

and all he said was......

"Porn doesn't whinge"

and I've been giggling about it all day. Thanks for that John, in fact, it's just too good as just a phrase, it needs to be either a song/album title.... or maybe a band name.

Mob logged

I've got/had a moblog account. I've not used it for yonks but I've started to get a lot of "comments" centered around a picture I put on there some time ago.

Very odd

Inertia, I'd call my child all the same

Well bugger me, that was an experience. Sorry to lots of people who thought I'd be updating the Lobster while "on tour" but it was just non stop and I was having far too much fun to bother about all this shite.

I simply cant thank everyone involved in "suspending these stars" enough. I had a ball, I really did. I know its taken about 2 weeks for me to write this, it's just the whole thing was one MASSIVE head feck for me. I've needed a little time, space and interface to get to grips with what I've experienced.

Twas a shame I didn't get to say my goodbye's to everyone in the crew and band, but that's what happens when ya get yaself all excited!

Russ was the star of all this really. He kept an eye on me and kept me in check....(and real ale) along with Matt & James of course!

Bollocks with it, I'm crap at thank-you's...... if you know me, you'll know how much this has meant. If ya don't know me, then your perception of a me as a twat is not 100% true.

The lobster lives....

There's no-one here to take your call.

Please leave a message after the tone.

Janice Longer...

Nope the Janice Long thing didnt happen.....

It's along (no pun inteded) story involving pluggers and producers and all that kinda stuff.

Anyhow, it'll be Norwhich Waterfront tomorrow, after we get the heating fixed on the blunder bus

It’s 01.30 am…. And I’m sitting in the “blunder bus” on my tod. There’s a very good reason for this, I’m knackered.

Everyone else is still in Cox’s Yard enjoying the hospitality and will soon be wandering back to continue the party atmosphere.

I’m just not quite ready for all that just now. There’s too many things flying through my head, like Dray’s floor tom…. I don’t think I really boxed it right…. I’ll have to sort that tomorrow when we get back into the venue to collect the gear.

The gig was fantastic, but to tell ya the truth, I was so concerned about something falling off the drum kit I didn’t notice what was going on….

Anyhow, tomorrow (nope, that’ll be today) is gonna be a late one as we’re “in Session” with Janice Long. Not too sure of the details but I think we need to be setup and ready for about midnight. Have a google for it if you’re interested.