Happy Festivus

A festivus for the rest of us!

Dunno if anyone still reads this, but have a good one....

Shoulda Seen it coming...

The funniest thing about the fraud reported today in America is the name of the alleged perp... Bernard fucking Madoff (pron. Made-off). They should have seen him coming. He certainly saw them coming......

Plane Snobbery

I see those Plane Stupid arseholes are at it again, stopping takesoffs from Stanstead, ruining peoples holidays and business trips for a clump of the moral high ground.

What it boils down to is snobbery and eliteism, it was ok when only middle class people could afford to fly abroad, but now the world has shrunk dramatically, not only for the better off, but for most people (which really is an inspiring, democratising phenomenon), they waggle their chinless faces crowing about "stag parties to prague", "going to dublin for the weekend". Oh gosh, it's so unseemly! It was apparently ok when only they could afford to do it, but not any more...

I would stop the planes. I would. The planes carrying those self righteous trustafarian arseholes to the far reaches of Asia and Australia and South America on their patronising gap year "travelling" expeditions. Better still, I'd let them go, but I would be there a few months later at the airport in Bangkok or Sydney trying to stop the planes bringing them home.

This blogger hits the nail on the head, I think
http://sadiestavern.blogspot.com/2008/02/plane-arseholes.html

My things these days

I've updated the site for poetry and music and stuff to a new weird, minimalist thing design to confuse and alienate people
www.revporl.com

a myspace with some nice mellow tunes on here:
www.myspace.com/revporl

I have my fledgling business site here
www.acabdesign.com

I'm back!

Crikey, 2 years have passed since I last thought of "Blogging". It sort of defeats the object doesn't it really....?

In that time, I've changed jobs, faced power, corruption and lies, got faced down, left, have recently become self employed, am more relaxed now.

This morning I have eaten ready brek for the first time in years. I am looking backwards and forwards at the same time, like a plaice.

VIP RIP

They're taking the character out of town brick by brick. The latest institution to be removed is the "VIP Cinema Club", the little porn cinema above what is now the revolution bar, which has become part of the main bland boring bar next door. I was always intrugued by that place as a teenager, it seemed to lurk there on the corner sureptitiously, a dingy staircase leading up into the gloom where who knows what exotic pleasures awaited. Some time later I found out...
It was my then girlfreinds birthday, I decided to take her there as some kind of post-modern romantic treat, though admittedly it didn't really work as such. The bloke on the door looked a bit like Captain Birdseye, with an open shirt and medalion and incongruous mariners cap. We had to join as members, excrusiating process of filling out a couple of forms with false details, I received a members card (which I treasured for years). We were then invited into the coffee lounge, which consisted of a filthy settee and a 1970's coffee machine which dispensed sludge in plasic cups. We then went into the darkened "cinema" on which porn films from the early 1980's were blurrily projected onto a tiny screen. I remember mulletts, a soundtrack reminiscent of Jan Hammers work on "Miami Vice", convoluted plots about compliant (and pliable) secretaries in German offices, and pixillated genitals, which sort of defeated the object really. Glancing around, there were about half a dozen bloked scattered about in the dark (who all looked a bit like university lecturers), and if you listened carefully, a kind of rhythmic, syncopated squeaking of solitary pleasure. Then, horror of horrors, I needed a wee. The toilet turned my stomach, consisting of a urinal and two large bins filled beyond the brim with screwed up pieces of toilet paper, which overflowed and covered the floor, and gave off the unmistakable stench of onanism. I relieved meself and bid a hasty retreat back into the dark. At some point, right in the middle of the film, the video stopped, the lights apruptly brightened and a rather elderly stripper appeared to the sound of some 1950's jazz. At this point we left, although not before being invited back for "Couples Night" (which, if I remember, was on a sunday evening). I never went back, but I'll never forget it...

Other institutions currently being torn down in the name of modernisation include the Dutch Pancake house (probably the worst restaurant ever, but I remember it as a kid) and Lazerquest, where you could run around in the dark to the sound of really loud heavy metal and shoot your freinds in the face. For what? Anonymous tacky bars for the students and the residents of the new flats, who, despite there being allegedly thousands of them, I've never met a single one of (Moz, you don't count, you're just taking the piss). Manchester will never be such seedy, nauseating fun again.

Trainspotting is the new Bling Pimping or summat...

Obviously the "Flask and Sarnies" look is taking off in the hiphop world, here's Buster Rhymes , rocking the "Crewe Platform 3 Crew" look. NWA (that's Niggaz with Anoraks) are reforming to re-record an old classic as "Fuck da transport police" for their new album "Straight outta Compton, Berks. (on the 15:30 to Newbury)".

Yorkshire Slaughter

Here are some stills and plotlines from my new film "Yorkshire Slaughter III. The return of Kremen", coming soon to a cinema near you. Or maybe DVD rental site. Calm down dear, it's only a commercial. A wheelchair on a deserted beach on the Yorkshire Coast. Cripple philanthropist Earnie Winter III snatched from his commode, whelks rammed up his nostrils as he struggled softly (cos he couldn't struggle, hardly), then taken to the sea and tipped into the brine when the ransom was eaten by puffins.
Incestuous siamese twins Norris and Doris Cumberbund shot dead as they sat in their car, gazing out to sea as the kidnappers deposited Earnie into his watery grave, hand in hand, joined at the head. Kenny Everett, raised from the dead by criminal mastermind Boris (just Boris) and his fiendish anti-aids ray, at a complete tangent to the rest of the plot. In the forthcoming sequel, Boris turns the ray on Freddie Mercury, Russel Harty and the american bloke who sung for Black Sabbath on one tour in 1986 and then died of the aids because he was a gay.

or maybe this one....

Within minutes, Endless Dismal Moan have been usurped by.....
http://deflaze.client.jp/

what on earth is deflaze??? The organ tune is ace though!

Endless Dismal Moan

surely the greatest name for a band, especially a japanese heavy metal band, in the world ever.
http://www2.odn.ne.jp/chaos9/