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....