It's all go init!
I've just about finished packing.... but what exactly do you pack for 3 weeks on a tour bus with no hotels?
buggered if I know.
It's probably best to keep it that way, If I need anything, I guess I can buy it somewhere.
I'm gonna try an post while "on tour" but I've no idea if I'll get any "tinternet" time so I'll just wing it.
Hay Ho.....
Yes! ..... Yes I am popular! It's official.
I had 18 "happy birthdays" in total.
2 Cards
4 Phone calls
2 txt messages
....and 10 e-mails informing me that at my age I should be considering a penis enlargement, hair replacement therapy or an over 50's lifetime retirement plan (it comes with a choice of free gifts!)
So, thanks to everyone who bothered.
It really made a difference. It's nice to know there are people out there who think it's a good thing I'm around...
Mind you, I'm far too conceited to return the complement. But you all know that anyhow ;-)
Goober, I dont think I've got your e-mail address anymore, do me a favour and send it to me... and ya mobile number.
Anyhow, you wanted a copy of the "mullet" picture so here it is..
Goto my Flickr page, then in the "Search By Tags" input box type "Goober"
You'll get a list of all photo's with your mug in them. Find the one ya want.
You can download the piccy by clicking on the "All Sizes" spy-glass icon at the top of the picture, select the size of picture you want then hit the download button.
So, it's official (I think.... maybe me posting on this blog makes it official), I'm on The Wonder Stuff payroll!
I was asked a few days ago if I fancied pulling drums apart and putting them back together again for TWS's Andres Karu..... for the entire tour. Thats 12 (maybe 13) gigs in about 16 days
Seemed a bit daft not to really. It's not every day ya get the chance to work with a bunch or Lords.
So, here I am....
Booked time off work....
Stepping out of the comfortable and into the unknown....
No illusions of grandeur here, I'll be worked to near death....
A welcome change from my normal.
Shopping List:
Sanford Sharpies (it's a kinda permanent marker... apparently)
Maglite
Drum Key
(I may have to sneak in a cow bell somewhere)
I had a call today, an offer I could only accept.
If work don't throw a spanner into the job, I'll be doing stuff I've only dreamt of.
Please come in, do sit down, take a drink if you say that it helps you think
And I wish you luck, you sick helpless fuck
Oh, I cant believe... we're at this again.
You happened to me, I happened to you
We were in deep and we're stuck up like glue
Saw what you did, I heard what you said
Geez, I hope he was good in bed
Thanks for reminding me I'm not wrong.
Can anyone spare £0.79p? (thats $1.38 for those of you with mono coloured money)
Good, then go here and download this...
The Wonder Stuff's new single 'Blah Blah, Lah Di Dah' was released (digitally only) last week. Download from:-
Left hander......possible knee down event.
I quickly and unconsciously skim through "the system".... the bend is visible all the way through, nowt on the road, nothing to hit, my position adjusted, just left of the long white divide. Speed and gear selection needs to be perfect, enough speed to keep the adrenalin flowing and the correct gear to neutralise the suspension bias front and back.
Everything slows down, becomes quiet and I feel a tightness spread across my face as the inevitable grin begins to show.... Arse slips off the seat to the left, right elbow anchors itself into the recess contoured into the tank design, left knee and leg rotate outwards ready to skim the bitumen.
Subconsciously I begin the turn, but thats not enough to do this correctly, I need to apply some science and have heroic amounts of self belief to stop under-steering and meeting an oncoming tree....or worse.
Forcing a 1000 yard stare up the road to where I need to be in just a few short seconds and applying a forward push on the left bar to countersteer the bike and myself around the apex...... Ground rush becomes apparent to peripheral vision as the lean angle increases.....I try not to think of the forces being transmitted through the bike, to the suspension and down to the tires and onto a contact patch with the road the size of a credit card.
I can feel the increase in G's spike then begin to fade, perfectly in unison with the degrees of lean. The throttle is slowly opened making sure I don't over do it and spoil the whole experience by spinning up the rear tire too early and invoking a spleen shattering high-side......
As the bike returns to its perpendicular attitude and my arse finds its usual residence I begin to hear a strange noise in my helmet , sounds like a screaming, giggling, over excited 10 year old at a Beyonce concert....... feck...... that noise belongs to me.
Oh look! another bend up ahead...... possible knee down event.
Just don't blame me thats all....
Blame the dark nights, blame IBM.... blame the odd angle the Earth's axis sits on.... Just don't blame me.
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It might work, I dunno. Click on the image to eventually see a small vid I did some years ago.
Some years ago, Goober and I (I was acting as "crap-manager" and camera fool) did a "gig" in Aberdeen in Scotland...... and things we're never the same again. Even now after so many years just the mention of "Aberdeen" will bring a sharp intake of breath and a nervous look over the shoulder from both of us. The Star-Wars cafe will always look like Scots-Bar in our eyes.
Apparently, according to a new London Guide book we're a bunch of sweary-mary's who cant live without the F-word.
Mel, I think you need to check this book out. It seems to contain a few home truths about London.
for anyone else that thinks we have gobs like sewers, then I suggest you visit the following link and bathe in the glory of how the f-word can be used.
Over to you Mr Cooper Clarke...
Ok, ok..... here's part 2 of "Lost Patrol"
As I sat there day dreaming about sunsets, 3-in-One oil and platform shoes my subconscious decided to leave me to it, for years it had put up with being ignored and insulted.... on the odd occasion it actually got the message through and everything turned out right it would never be thanked. No, all that praise went to Captain Cognitive..
I promised an update on last nights “Speed Dating” event.. So, if you could kindly take your seats and ensure it’s fixed in the upright position and lap belts are secured, then I’ll begin.
Walking into a pub on a school night in a town centre you’re not familiar with is bad enough, but add into that a few dozen locals who know exactly why you’ve come into their pub and things can be a tad tense. Personally, I thought the blind kid playing the banjo in the corner was a little over the top, but what do I know?
Once the whispering and pointing had died down, John & myself ordered a drink and disappeared upstairs to the caged area where we collected our badges and found a dry patch to set up camp.
Within 15 minutes the last of the growlers, howlers and other deluded misfits had arrived and signed in….. I say signed-in, I’m still undecided as to whether scent rubbing can be classed as a recognised form of identification verification…. It may be OK with Speed Dating organisers but I’d like to see how a passport control officer would react to someone whipping out their happy sacks and rubbing them on his desk
At this point my mind was racing, If only I’d brought a white coat with me I could possibly announce myself as a doctor and convince the more lucid participants that the mescaline WAS on it way and I’d be right back after I’d checked outside for the Nurse……
It just wasn’t gonna happen, I was there for the duration…… As the stench of desperation mixed with perspiration and a little Lynx “
I instinctively checked the date, time and venue. Surely this wasn’t the right place for Speed Dating?! I’d made a wrong turn somewhere…. That must be it!, instead of following the signs to Guildford I’d mistakenly took the turning to the 17th century and gate crashed a pagan sacrificial ceremony….. Far fetched I know, but it would explain the 35ft Wicker Man I’d passed on the hard shoulder of the A3 only 10 minutes before.
No, that’s just silly, even the possibility of time travel could not help make sense of the carnage I could see.
Take the “potential girlfriend” sitting at table “D”, good looking lass she was, I imagined us both limping off in to the distance… my dodgy hip and her clubfoot and calliper perfectly synchronised… If I worked a bit of Delmonti magic we could be knocking out each other hips within hours.
Actually, I cant be arsed to carry on with this story. I think I’ve got half a Twix left in the car….. Yeah….. the twix wins.
