Saturday, May 31, 2008

Meeeeaaat...

I was drunk. I did something perverse. Something bad. Something wrong. But I was drunk.

I ate meat. I was hungry. And drunk. It was on the plate, looking all... all tempting. It wasn't my fault. It tasted alright. But as Bad Sarah pointed out, it wasn't just meat, it was all PIG. Non-kosher, to boot.

And now I feel strange cravings. I feel I must take my bow and arrow and go and hunt down the deer in Victoria Park.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Civil disobedience

Let's all go and get pissed on the tube! Fuck the nanny state! Raaaaargh!!!

Always keep a notebook by the bed

You know when you're about to fall asleep, and you have a startling, life-changing revelation which you really should get up and write down, but you're too sleepy and it's so life-changing and startling you'll surely remember it in the morning, but then in the morning of course you have forgotten what it was?

That.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Philosophy

Conversation in the lunch queue

Farhad: (Announcing) When you are old, you will die.
Miss Black: That's right.
Yunus: Me and Farhad, we're going to be very, very old men.
Miss Black: And will you still be friends when you're old?
Farhad: (laughing, as one who says, don't be ridiculous) Nooo!
Nabeel: My gran is very old, she'll die.
Miss Black: Oh, is that right?
Farhad: (still laughing) But I don't want to die!
Miss Black: Don't worry, it won't be for a long, long, long time.
Farhad: And when you die, you start again as a baby.
Miss Black: Oh, is that what you think happens?
Tanzeem: Nooo, you don't start again as a baby, you start again in HEAVEN.
Miss Black: (not wishing to enter into a religious debate as she's hungry) Ah, I see.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Wedding dress

The wedding season is nearly upon us. Hurrah, it gives me an excuse to get out of my jeans and look like a girl for a change. But it's not easy, oh no. Because the look this summer seems to offer two options:

1 - Very sequinned, or lots of fringe, very short, such as Liza Minelli might reject for her stage show as being a bit too spangly.

2 - Maxi maxi maxi dress with huge tropical flowers all over it, such as Talitha Getty might have worn to a beach party in Ibiza in the 70s.

I nearly bought this one from my secret clothes shop on Oxford Street which is usually frequented by teenage sk8ter bois - - right sort of shape, groovy graphic print - but then I realised exactly what the groovy graphic print was just at the last minute. Can you see what it is yet, dear reader?

No one to play with

Isn't it great being on holiday? Oh, you're still at work? Poor you...

(The downside to this is there's nobody to hang out with, except of course for other teachers. We tend to avoid each other outside work.)

Anyway, go read Mr Angry, my new favourite blogger, he's very very funny. (He's been blogging for a while but is consistently really good, which we all know isn't easy, so props to him.)

Monday, May 26, 2008

Inbetweeners

'not cool enough to be popular and not geeky enough to be a nerd...' sound familiar?
Watch the Inbetweeners. Very, very, very funny...

(co-written by Iain Morris, who also wrote some Flight of the Conchords.)

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Proactive

There's a very sexy man in glasses on the tube, we clock each other as I get on at Angel. (I always check men in glasses out, I don't know why.) I think he checks me out too, which doesn't always happen. Stupidly, I wander away and sit down far away. Kicking myself. Though he does look up as I get off at Bank. So I hand him a note I scribbled, just before I jump off:

If you're single, give me a ring [followed by mobile number] Annie. *

















* Actually, I didn't do this. But I thought about it. And chickened out at the last minute. One of my enterprising friends did in fact do this, and it led to quite a passionate fling. Maybe will get some cards printed up...

Happy Bank Holiday

Have an earworm

Friday, May 23, 2008

Sex and the City

Update: Somebody else is not a fan either. Doctored poster seen on Cambridge Heath Road today...




















"Anyone who is middle aged (i.e., over thirty) and is going to see this film with their *girly* mates should be banished to the Isle Of Man to live their life in penury."

Betty on the Sex and the City movie.

Apart from the horrible realisation that I'm now middle aged, an observation about as welcome as Bad Sarah claiming that at age 36 I'm menopausal (an observation swiftly followed by a sharp poke in the eye and a smack round the chops) I feel moved to defend Sex and the City, one of my favourite programmes.

1.) Dialogue.
Sexy waiter: Amuse bouche?
Samantha: He can amuse my bouche any time.

2.) Lightness.
Despite its reputation as all cocktails and shoes, it dealt with stuff that matters to women in a really light, entertaining but truthful way. Work. Relationships. Family. Breast cancer. Alzheimers. But funny.

3.) Friendships.
Unlike many a programme, or any magazine or newspaper you care to mention, it didn't set women up against each other. (It's unfortunate that the actors all appear to hate each other in RL, but we'll pass swiftly over that).

4.) Clothes.
It's not really about fashion as such - real fashionistas would rather look edgy and frankly, mental, like they got dressed in the dark after a night's heavy drinking, than pretty. This was about real women who like clothes (until their budget got out of control in the last season - all I could think in the final programme when Carrie moved to Paris and wore enormous frou-frou couture gowns was 'How did she fit all that in her suitcase?') And like real women who like clothes, sometimes they got it very wrong. But that was all part of the fun.

I know men don't get it (with one honourable exception - I won't out him in case he's ashamed of his metrosexuality). One of our friend's boyfriend used to sneer 'Are you watching Horse-Face and She-Man again?' - but all the more for us.

(Men are simple creatures, who prefer linear plots and minimal character development. They prefer James Bond type visual entertainment along the lines of 'Car go fast. Car go bang.' Poor dears, they find multi-tasking - say, watching images and processing speech simultaneously - quite difficult.)

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Grrrrrr

Had a shit day, culminating in a row with my boss. It might surprise you to learn from the calm serenity which emanates from my blog that at work I am not at all calm and serene. At work I am a seething torrent, a fountain of rage. Maybe banging your head against a brick wall all year will do this for you, yet other people seem to let it flow over them without turning into raging psychopaths. Must say, I am hating my job at the moment. Or hating my place of work. I don't hate the kids, though they drive me up the wall, that's because they're 5 and 6, being asked to do too much without enough help and there's too many of them, but it's not their fault.

I remember having a conversation with a counsellor (not for anger management, btw) which went like this:

Me: But what's the point in anger? You can't do anything with it. Talking to you about it won't make it go away, I'm not angry with you. How can counselling help?
Counsellor: Yes, how can counselling help?
Me: Yes, I'm asking. How can it help?
Counsellor: Well, that's what we're working out here...

Money for old rope.

Anyway, what is the point in anger? Does it get you results, or does it just alienate everyone around you?

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Holy Shit

I just watched Taking Liberties on 4 on Demand. I urge you, I implore you, I beg you to watch it.

If you can't get 4 on Demand, I'm sure it's easy to rent on DVD. It breaks down, in an amusing, skilful and utterly frightening way how the government has eroded civil liberties put into place after the lessons learned from World War II and the rise of the Nazis (and others going back as far as the Magna Carta, such as Habeas Corpus.)

Right to protest

Free speech

Privacy

*new!* Detention without trial
*new!* Extradition Treaty to the USA*
*new!* Torture

Bravo, Tony Blair. You dismantled our civil liberties in a mere 10 years. What a legacy, you must be proud.

It is funny, and the graphics used to tell the history behind these rights are beautifully done, plus it stars people we like, like Tony Benn, Brian Haws and Rachel North. It's also very, very, depressing. What a scary, cowed, fascist police state we're becoming.

But it also gives you hope, when you see how polite, charming, eccentric, seemingly powerless but purely bloody-minded, bolshy and stubborn are the people who are protesting against this erosion of our liberties...

Let us join them! I'm already thinking about what my Mass Lone Demonstration is going to be.


PS Must stop swearing on my blog. I can't access it from work, it's blocked by our filters as it's classified as "Occult/Profanity".


*The treaty removes the requirement on the US to provide evidence when requesting the extradition of people from the UK.

Taken from here

Alter ego

Trying to work out which one I am.

A) Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs Robinson?



B) Young man...

Monday, May 19, 2008

Euro

Oh god oh god, it's the Eurovision this weekend and I have nothing arranged, (last year we had to go to Leila's in the national dress of the country we were supporting, it's not easy finding something authentically Ukrainian in your wardrobe at the last minute I can tell you.) Whose Eurovision can I crash?

Suddenly I feel like an American teen who has no date for the prom.

PS: Check out Greece's entry. Close your eyes and it could be Britney.

Creative male wanted

You wonder what manner of creativity is required. If I was a male looking for a house-share this would grab my attention, that's for sure.



as seen in Rough Trade East

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Stripper shoes

Since when did normal shoes in everyday shoeshops become stripper shoes?

(as seen in Top Shop.)

Mad

I remember writing back in the day that I'd started off vaguely left but was now politically apathetic.

Starting this job somehow has politicized me, again. Maybe because now there is no socialism in our political parties - No Socialists. Socialists All Gone.

Remember Maggie Thatcher, 'there's no such thing as society'? At the time I thought it was an utterly ridiculous thing to say - I didn't realise it was actually a statement of policy that the powerful would champion, that would affect the way things would be run for the next 100 years...

You know what makes me mad? The fact that most politicians, people in government who make policy decisions HAVE NO EXPERIENCE OF ANYTHING BUT POLITICS. They go to public school; they go to Oxford;they go to Harvard; they go to Westminster. Then they dictate how everyone else should live, without having any knowledge, any wisdom, any heartfelt beliefs gained through hard-won experience.

I was watching Panorama about the SATS (I knew I shouldn't, I knew it would make me irate, I just like to torture myself). There was Jim Knight, 'Minister of State for Schools', crapping on in that insufferable way about a system that everyone hates - the children, the teachers, the parents... what experience does old Jim have of education? What beliefs does he have, what ethos about learning? What does he know about it, but what some advisor has told him to say? Fuck all, that's what. The same for Ed Balls, (Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families)

('In September 2007, with his wife Yvette Cooper, [Ed Balls] was accused of "breaking the spirit" of Commons rules by using MPs' allowances to help pay for a £655,000 home in north London. It was alleged that they bought a four-bed house in Stoke Newington, north London, and registered this as their second home (rather than their home in Castleford, West Yorkshire) in order to qualify for up to £44,000 a year to subsidise a reported £438,000 mortgage under the Commons Additional Costs Allowance. This is despite both spouses working in London full-time and their children attending local London schools. Through a spokesman, Balls and Cooper countered the allegation by saying "The whole family travel between their Yorkshire home and London each week when Parliament is sitting. As they are all in London during the week, their children have always attended the nearest school to their London house." '
Wikipedia Bravo, Ed and Yvette. Staunch socialists, the pair of them. Oh, I know, personal attacks are unreasonable, and possessing qualities such as moral integrity has nothing to do with their ability to do a really great job in positions of power and responsibility...)

They know nothing, they probably wanted something sexier & more prestigious, like foreign policy. (Actually, even DEFRA is probably more sexy and prestigious than Education.) It's just a step up the career ladder and they really couldn't give a toss about it. They shouldn't be allowed into government until they've done a real job first. Imagine that - people who've actually worked in the NHS in Health, for example, people who actually have opinions and experiences and beliefs. Crazy I know, but it just might work.

It seems more and more that this country is held together by poor people frantically working, doing the essential jobs and holding things together with spit and sawdust, whilst the powers that be swan around on comfortable salaries for comparatively little work (hello Ed and Yvette - In March 2008, Balls sparked controversy by appearing to reply to David Cameron's assertion in parliament that the government had presided over the greatest increase in overall taxation of all time with the phrase "So what?") concerned only about opinion polls and how they come across on the TV.

Anybody see those 'Secret Millionaire' programmes? One group stuck in my head - they were a Stroke Rehabilitation group. They were entirely run by extremely dedicated volunteers because there was no money to keep them going - they stopped stroke patients from descending into a life of despair and immobility once they'd been kicked out of hospital; organising physical therapy, holding social events - but they were run on a shoestring. They needed a mini-van to get them to the local leisure centre but they had no money to buy one. (There's no money to be made out of sick people, they're just a drain on the economy, like old people, so what's the point in giving them anything? It's money down the toilet.)

Lucky for them a benevolent passing millionaire bought one for them. They weren't expecting anything, the people who ran this group, they did it out of care, on no money. They were just invisibly making the wheels of society go round, and apart from this programme would have remained unthanked and invisible and unpaid. They're a metaphor for the state we're in.

Lyrics Born knows what I'm talking about. Take it away, Lyrics Born.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

What do people do all day?

Other people's jobs are a mystery.


In one line, what do you do all day?

Friday, May 16, 2008

Peggy or Joan


Peggy ............ ..... Joan

Who do you fancy? And why?

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Happy Blogday

A day late, Happy 4th Blogday for the Mother of all things Rock. May all your days be hazy.

Street art

It has crept up on me. It's getting to be an obsession. Ms Pepper, who is a proper artist, wrote on one of my Flickr photos of the Italian graffitti maestro Sten 'You know how much i hate graffiti, but this is gorgeous. Does this mean I have to stop hating graffiti so much? ' To which I said 'Ah, there's graffitti and graffitti.'

I'm not so into the scrawls and scribbles of tags, which don't take much skill and are more like a dog widdling on a tree to mark its territory, but there is some phenomenal stuff out there. And it feels like people are leaving signs and messages for you to decipher around the city, which makes your movement around London that much more entertaining.

I also flukily ended up in the graffitti hotspot of London. From all over the world they all flock east to spray, paint, sticker and wheatpaste the walls around here. My street art folder is getting huge, but what really pleases me is that the graffitti-ists are starting to get back to me on Flickr.

I know they are just normal regular people who happen to have a fetish for going out in hoodies late at night and posting things illegally on walls, but to me they are artists, it's like Michelangelo getting in touch to say thanks for noticing me. They like the fact that I've snapped their work, I feel all star-struck, it's a big love-fest all round.

Recommendations? Here are the people rocking my world:

Dave the Chimp

Swoon
Sten
Dr D
Banksy (do you really need a link?)
Plus various anonymous artistes to be found here.


Dave the Chimp on Roman Road

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Hackney when the sun's out

In the corner shop:

Turkish shopowner: What's up?
Rasta youth: Not much, bro.
Turkish shopowner: What's the news?
Rasta youth: Everything's good. Sorry (to me)
Annie: Sorry (to Rasta youth, it's a very narrow shop.)
Turkish shopowner: What's the latest?
Rasta youth: Everything's fine, man.
Rasta youth: Sorry (I'm trying to pay for my pink sparkly vino.)
Turkish shopowner: Any sadness?
Rasta youth: No no, it's all good. Everything's bless.
Turkish shopowner: Good! (laughing like a lunatic.) Everything's fine! hahahahahaha!


London's a different place when the sun's out.

Psychic househunters

I can't do this anymore! Every morning I wake up and it's the same! I go out and buy the paper and I circle them all and I phone them, only to discover they've been taken by a bunch of fucking PSYCHIC HOUSEHUNTERS!

This is Daisy in the first episode of Spaced. Except for the fact that I'm looking on PrimeLocation and HotProperties, I know just how she feels...

The prices are falling. It's a buyer's market, they tell you. There must be loads out there... It's a good time to be a first time buyer...

It's all a dirty lie, is what it is. Propaganda. It's NOT easier and more affordable for first time buyers, especially in London Town. It's harder. I will tell you by what sign I know this - I'm getting LESS calls from agents with properties, less emails from the property list websites for relevant properties than I was last year. But I tell you something, I refuse to move to Barking.

(Probably preaching to the converted but Spaced is what TV was invented for... if you haven't seen it, it's on YouTube and also more legitimately on More4.)

PS: loving the work of the Space Hijackers on the topic of greedy developers in East London, by the way - thanks to DH for the tip.

Monday, May 12, 2008

On having superpowers

So, my telly is on the blink, it is practically from the Stone Age and will be like a giant useless empty box as soon as they flip the switch that turns off analogue (or however that works). Coinciding with a period of being broke I thought I'd try without it for a while. There's so much available to watch on the internets nowadays too, who needs it?

But I have suddenly got hooked, HOOKED, a bit late but never mind, on Heroes. I LOVE Heroes.

I love cute Japanese moon-faced Hiro, and chilling split personality Nicky, and Micah, her incredibly endearing little boy who can technopathically make cash machines spit out money for him; and cheesy politician Nathan, and the tall dark sexy Haitian who can wipe people's memories, and sweet Claire the angelic cheerleader who creepily keeps getting bashed up and killed then REGENERATING HERSELF . And evil Sylar, who is an absolutely convincing, terrifying baddie.

I like the interwoven plots and the idea that superpowers are more of a curse than a blessing (the dark comedy of the man whose hands go radioactive when he gets angry, for example.)

And you can stream it all for free, how wonderful... but it takes bloody hours. I waited patiently/impatiently for episode 18 to download all day. May have to actually invest in a proper TV/DVD then rent the whole lot and have a 48 hour Heroes fest. Very tempted to get this TV - regard its wooden retro appeal. Can't really fathom that huge widescreen cinema business that the boys go in for. Men and their obsession with size, hey?

Sunday, May 11, 2008

On being cool

She was everything I wasn't. She was blonde, cute, she had a little button nose. Athletic, the fastest at running when we played British Bulldog. (Once when round her house she jumped off their garage roof into the garden. 'Who taught you that?' I said, lost in admiration. 'Gym' she said. 'Who's Jim?' I asked stupidly. She laughed.) She wore cool clothes. All the boys fancied her like mad. Whereas I was fancied only by the class nerd Jeremy, and he only fancied me because I was the only other Jewish kid in the class (apart from Laura, who was odd) and I'm sure he entertained fantasies that we were betrothed.

And she was called Tammy, which every little girl wanted to be called back then. Most of all she was Pretty, cast-iron no-messing indestructibly pretty, better even than being beautiful. Tammy would look pretty reflected upsidedown and distorted in a soup spoon, I thought gloomily, she would look pretty if you shaved her hair all off and glued a moustache on her. I hero-worshipped her. And of course, she bullied me mercilessly, some days I was cool enough to hang around with her and other days I was a social pariah, until I got into the juniors and wondered why I was doing this to myself and walked away and found nice friends. Strangely, after that we got on much better.

(The harshest thing you learn in school is that the grownups can't always help you and you have to sort it out yourself. Of course we come down hard on bullying, but I see it in the classroom - sometimes I want to tell them that a bully can only have as much power as you give to them, but it's something kids have to work out for themselves. If they say 'he hit me' I want to say 'Well then hit him back', but I'm not allowed. The little boys are easier to deal with - they just tend to wallop each other then it's all over with, whilst the little girls deal in extended psychological torture...)

It's all her fault that I entered secondary school as a geek. Anyway, in the John Hughes movie that was school, which clique did you fall into?

Bloggers vs old school media (again)

NML is fighting back against misrepresentation in the Daily Mail. I think we can draw 3 things from this story:

1.) Tabloids (and same goes for women's magazines) have their own agenda. They'll write the story they want, and slot your name in wherever it suits them. Be very, very careful if they should ever contact you.

2.) Don't talk to the Daily Mail.

3.) Don't ever ever ever talk to the Daily Mail.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Survey

Bête de Jour has set up an interesting blogging survey. Do have a go - it asks you searching questions that require you to look into the dark and murky depths of your soul and come up with some disturbing, uncomfortable truths about yourself. Or maybe that was just me.

Friday, May 09, 2008

Nnnnnnnnnnngggg...

Someone else kindly read this for me, and report back the main points? I scanned it but don't believe my blood pressure can take it if I read the whole thing without mediation. (Oh, and somebody break it to the black boys at school that I'm not fit to teach them? Apparently I'm alright to teach white and Asian boys. I know, let's segregate our schools by colour! After all, it worked so well in South Africa.)


(I promise I'll stop writing about school soon. I know it goes down like a lead balloon. It's just that there's SO MUCH about it, all the time, constantly. Imagine if every time you opened a paper, turned on the radio or the TV politicians and ordinary folk were shouting the odds over your job. Everyone's an expert on it, everyone has an opinion, because everyone went to school once.)

Thursday, May 08, 2008

London Fields - page 123 meme

Tagged by the beauteous Bowleserised. 1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages). 2. Open the book to page 123. 3. Find the fifth sentence. 4. Post the next three sentences.

I wrote this dissing Amis junior before the meme, but it seemed a good excuse to post it. Scroll down for the actual paragraph from the book. * Timely because apparently they're making a film of it with David Cronenberg, whose films I also loathe. Remind me not to see it.


So as I'm passing on the bus, I notice another art gallery has opened up in Cambridge Heath Road, the Keith Talent gallery.

Keith Talent, I muse, that rings a bell... then I realise it's because it namechecks the anti-hero in the book I'm currently reading, Martin Amis' London Fields (I picked it up because I thought it was set in London Fields, but naturally, it's set in Notting Hill. I feel a bit cheated.)

So someone has picked up on that - though why you'd call your art gallery after a fictional, and pretty philistine character, who is not even based in London Fields at all, is not clear.

I don't know why I keep persisting with Martin Amis, I don't really like his books. Sure he writes a mean sentence, but you often wonder what he's flannelling on about. His writing is something like getting this huge, lavishly wrapped present with gold ribbons on it, unwrapping it and finding an empty box. (Whilst Mark Haddon, say, is like someone handing you a brown paper bag and finding a diamond necklace inside.)

He seems to jump up and down shouting 'look at me! look at me! Look at my lovely sentences! Aren't I great!' whilst forgetting he's actually meant to be telling you a story.

It's a flaw that many postmodern writers seem to have - I had a feeling at college that I was always too unsure of myself to express, that all these writers like Robert Coover and Donald Barthelme would employ this tricksy meta-fictionalzzzzzzzz sorry nodded off there for a minute devices deconstructing the classic narrative, because they didn't really know how to write your basic plot.

Here, for example, old Martin starts off with a mystery structure, which should be quite intriguing and suspenseful, except we already know the murderer and the victim. He also has a metafictional narrator who is a character within the story, a failed author, commenting on how it's developing all the way through ('Look at me! I'm a writer! Aren't I clever!')

At one point, this narrator remarks 'I'm not one of those excitable types who get caught making things up... I can embellish, I can take certain liberties. Yet to invent the bald facts of a life (for example) would be quite beyond my powers.' Hmmmm...

What's my major problem? (Apart from the fact that through the women characters, he comes across like one of those men who can't quite believe that women are real human beings with an independent existence, as opposed to miraculous animated blowup sex dolls) It's as if his work is written by a teenager trying to be profound, but with no actual experience except vicariously through reading novels ... These books are all about... books. Though they'd like you to think they are all about Life.



* When she got home she slipped out of her coat and twirled into bed still wearing her high heels. When she awoke around midnight she bathed and then compulsively cooked herself a bushel of pasta and sat eating it and watching television and drinking nearly two bottles of Barolo.

He called the day after, which was just as well.

6 Random Facts meme

from Ben. After 3 *gulp* years of blogging, I'm running out of fascinating facts about moi that you don't already know, so help me out, hey. Anything you want to ask, or alternatively did anyone ever ask you something about yourself and you thought 'that's a great question'? Hit me with it. (I only need 6.)

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Pretender

8 random facts about 15th Century Pretender to the Throne and all round medieval fun-loving guy, Perkin Walbeck. As requested by the dashing Tim Footman.

1. Perkin pretended to be the son of King Edward IV of England, so as to claim a direct bloodline to the throne, but in fact he was a FROG IMPOSTER.

2. This was discovered when he was invited to a feast in the then Royal Palace of Hampton Court on the occasion of Henry VII’s 21st birthday party.

3. A master of disguise, Perkin made one simple slip up. Whilst most right-thinking red-blooded Englishmen were eating beef and drinking beer, Perkin was heard to demand ‘Apportez-moi le vin et les cuisses de la grenouille, je ne peux pas manger ce fumier anglais.’

4. Finding no luck with the Anglais, Perkin schmoozed the Irish and the Scottish with more success.

5. (The Irish and the Scottish didn’t like Perkin much either, but they embraced the principle that ‘my enemy’s enemy is my friend’ especially when it came to pissing off the English.)

6. Perkin tried to rabble rouse in Cornwall, and might have succeeded in leading the resentful locals to war had he not been taken sick on the eve of battle, laid low by what historians now believe was food poisoning contracted from a bad Cornish pasty.

7. Perkin had an older sister, Posie, and his younger brother was Pootle. His uncle, Pervert, was the black sheep of the family.

8. It is a little known fact that 70s punk-pop favourite of John Peel and lead singer of the Undertones, Feargal Sharkey, is a direct descendent of the Pretender.











Feargal Sharkey Perkin Walbeck

Well this has been educational and, I think you’ll agree, enlightening and stimulating.

I won't tag anyone because it makes people cry, but if anyone would like to provide 8 random facts about Suzi Quatro on their blog I won't stop them.

Memefication

I’ve been tagged 3 – count 'em – times of late by Ben, Bowleserised and Tim. Was it Tag Slaminsky Week and nobody told me? (I'm quite grateful really as have lost my mojo.)

One is a 6 random facts about me, one is page 213 of your latest book, the other is 6 random facts about Perkin Warbeck. I’m getting to them, guys. And after that, I’m calling a meme amnesty.

I don’t usually tag, but I thought for a change I’d tag Rosie - Rosie, my little cupcake, you don’t have to but if you need a further excuse not to study they are yours. (Let’s have 6 random facts about, um, WB Yeats. )

Sunday, May 04, 2008

Busy busy busy

This past month I have:

Voted, 3 times

Gone on strike for the first time

Been sprayed with liquid nitrogen

Seen Hard-Fi in a field

Walked through an ethical minefield

Tested the water

Sold my clothes

Attended a graffitti ORGY (usually it's done at night, clandestinely & furtively, under cover of darkness - this was in full daylight! Out in the open! With hundreds of people watching!)

Eaten the first Solero (Exotic Fruits) of the year

You?





Saturday, May 03, 2008

Nightmayor

Oh, for fuck's sake.

The idiots have taken over the asylum.

I feel it in my bones that this was because of people pissed off at the congestion charge, and for no other reason. Like little children reacting in a strop. Stupid bloody short-sighted idiots. Raaaargh!

Friday, May 02, 2008

Shhhhh posting illegally from work

Top tip for this weekend:

http://www.thecansfestival.com/

along with Paradise Gardens in Victoria Park

Must dash, byeeeee!

Thursday, May 01, 2008

Good cop bad cop














....Just so's you know what I look like if we ever meet in RL.