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Photos

An apology

From all at Uborka Towers, we would like to apologise profusely, both to old friends and to new introducees, for our behaviour last night. Our conversational skills were wanting, and we are both very ashamed of ourselves. We’re sorry if we appeared to be rude or dismissive, but the truth is that due to a rather beverageful Friday night, the words were taking a long time to form themselves into sentences.

Said Dragon to me, “You’re more laconic than I thought you’d be.” I replied, “It’s actually just that I’m a bit poorly.” Laconic is a fabulous word.

So, to anyone who was there for their first mogbleet, and saw a guy stood by the bar *all night*, sipping from a glass of clear liquid (which could have been a gin and tonic, but was really just a lemonade), looking like he thought that he was too cool for this pub, and giving one-word answers when people tried to start up a conversation with him: that was me. I’m not normally like that.

And to anyone who was there, and knew me beforehand, and now thinks that I don’t like them anymore, then I want you to know that it’s not like that. You’re ace. You’re my friend.

I was just even more fragile than I was expecting.

Here’s the Uborka Christmas Tree 2004. It’s more tasteful than last year’s, but that’s because Karen constructed it, and I’ve always had a tendency towards shedloads of tinsel and jollity.

The Uborka Christmas Tree 2004

*Originally posted here*

Categories
Photos

Smog

The smog over London

Categories
Photos

St Paul’s Cathedral

St Pauls Cathedral

Categories
Food Photos

Banana

Banana

Categories
In The News Music

Quoth the enemy

In the latest NME, they have compiled a list of the top 50 coolest people. There seems to be pretty much no restriction on your profession or nationality, but certainly there are no faces in there that haven’t been shoved down our throats by the NME for the last year. No surprises there. We are in absolutely no doubt as to what opinions we should have. Good good.

I am a tad upset by the inclusion of Pete Doherty of Libertines fame as joint number one with Carl Barat, also of Libertines fame. I am sick to the back teeth of the Libertines. The music would be just about acceptable, but the fact that the NME quite clearly want to wriggle up their arses and hop about until they squirt is just plain dull. I take solace in the fact that they are just a passing fad, the One True Voice of “credible” rock.

Okay, no disrespect to the Libertines. Though I doubt that my vitriol will trouble them, they don’t deserve it. I manage to make it through most days without losing my head and throwing a little fit at some band or another, but goddamn it the NME made me do it. They just won’t. Shut. Up. Much like me.

Anyway, my point.

The NME say “Pete Doherty is here *despite* his drug addiction.” The emphasis has not been added by myself. Still, I sense that regardless of how heartfelt or sincere such a remark is, it’s going to have the same effect as the disclaimer on the KaZaA website that says “You may not use KaZaA to transfer copyrighted materials without the permission of the copyright holder.”

“Kids” will read this article. They will see that Pete Doherty, who has been mentioned in 52 issues of the NME in the last year, every single time with some reference to his crack habit in the article, is the coolest guy. The coolest guy in rock? The coolest guy in England? No. The coolest guy. No further qualification.

*Call me cynical…*

You’re cynical, Pete.

…but the only reason that the Libertines are so beloved by the NME is because of the tensions within the band that came about as a direct result of Pete Doherty’s chemical abuse. And that’s why they are the coolest guys. Crack habit leads to people falling out, leads to thrilling news stories, leads to recognition. After all, the NME couldn’t talk about them nonstop for the whole year and then not put them at the top of every poll, could they?

No. Because then they’d be seen as being fickle, having forgotten the Libertines already.

Well, to be honest, I can’t wait for January, when all of the end-of-year polls are out of the way, and the Libertines can discreetly fade from view. Because there has been too much glamorisation of drugs this year, accompanied by some 2pt Flyspeck saying “By the way, we don’t think drugs are cool, contrary to everything we’ve written above.”

*Originally posted here*

Categories
About Me

FEEA

I invented a new **system** for evaluating pastimes and distractions today, called FEEA (pronounced “fear”, but with a soul-piercing screech).

The letters stand for Fun, Edification, Ease and Availability. What you do is rate all the things that you could do out of five, tally the four scores up, and the winner is the one with the most points. Here’s what I found.

**Playing Computer Games**

Fun: 4
Edification: 2 (there’s always that feeling that you haven’t really achieved anything)
Ease: 5 (can be done whilst drunk, that’s how easy it is)
Availability: 4 (waiting for it to load)

TOTAL: 15 (a most respectable score)

**Making Music**

Fun: 2 (a temporary state of affairs, I’m sure)
Edification: 4
Ease: 2 (takes a lot of hard work and dedication)
Availability: 2 (bandmates won’t come out of London at the drop of a hat, you know)

TOTAL: 10 (shocking. Must do something about this)

**Going To The Gym**

Fun: 1 (I get bored of looking at the same sweaty people and the same white walls over and over again)
Edification: 5 (…but I do feel better about myself for it)
Ease: 2 (takes a lot of hard work and dedication)
Availability: 5 (it’s part of the routine. Availability is not a problem)

TOTAL: 13 (blame it on the edification score)

**Housework**

Fun: 2 (varies depending on the task)
Edification: 4
Ease: 5 (can be done whilst drunk, that’s how easy it is)
Availability: 5 (assuming you’re actually at home)

TOTAL: 16 (wow. I should do more housework)

**Blogging**

Fun: 3 (it would be 5, but I have ensured that the score takes into account “reading other peoples’ blogs”. I joke, of course)
Edification: 2 (it would be 5, but I have ensured that the score takes into account “reading other peoples’ blogs”. I joke, of course)
Ease: 4 (type nonsense. Not exactly rocket science)
Availability: 2 (not enough hours in the evening)

TOTAL: 11 (second to last place. Not going to do **that** again then)

So, with that, I hereby announce my resignation from blogging.

I joke, of course.

*Originally posted here*

Categories
Poetry

About a Kettle

I’ve seen a lot of toasters,
And sandwich makers too,
But I never could stop searching
For a kettle just like you.

I like your pouty spout,
And your elegant element.
I like your ample handle,
And your kooky plastic scent.

Please sit here on my worktop,
And boil water for my tea,
And tell me how you’ve always searched
For a blender just like me.

Categories
Poetry

The Angry Shoebox

There was an angry shoebox,
Who mumbled all day long.
He’d whine about the weather,
And ask where all the red telephone boxes had gone.

The shoebox, he joined UKIP
To get the phonebooths back,
And everyone accused him,
Of being a dumbass racist hack.

And they were right, I guess.

(note: all abbreviations mentioned in this poem are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to any abbreviation, living or dead, is purely coincidental)

Categories
Meander

Threat to masculinity

Once upon a time, I was really really masculine. No, seriously, ask anyone that I went to school with. I was the hunkiest of the testosteroniest of the jockiest of the Men.

Many of you may remember Men Behaving Badly.

**Tony:** *I’m sorry, look what happens when you live with a woman? She’ll fill the place with cushions.*

**Gary:** *Cushions, yeah.*

That’s always stuck in my mind, for some reason. And it comes back particularly hard on occasions.

is this too many cushions

*Originally posted here*

Categories
IAMOWIM

Hyperquandary

I never used to go to the doctor’s much, because as far as I could see, it was a place for poorly people, and I have always been a tough fucker.

Dentists and opticians, of course, are quite different. You go there regularly, and they keep you tip top. They say, “Why Sir, you look good. Keep doing what you’re doing. And floss more.”

And they take money off you for it, so you think, ah, that’s cool. They get money, I get guidance. This is business. They like me being there.

But doctors are different. If you went to a doctor without an ailment, you’d be wasting their time. They don’t get money. They don’t think “awesome, that was the easiest £15 I’ll ever make.” They think “fucker.”

Recently my girlfriend has been getting very concerned about me. No grounds for it, as far as I can see, but I’ve been to the doctor’s twice in the last fortnight, for two different reasons, but on both occasions I’ve been told to “go back if it gets any worse.”

So what happens next time the girlfriend has one of her panic attacks and wants me to go to the doctor to have a particularly ugly looking hangnail checked out? Do I tell her that I’m a man, and can look after myself, and by golly, cavemen didn’t go to the doctor when they were poorly, and they were tough fuckers?

What then happens if the ugly looking hangnail jumps up and strangles me? I’ll wish I’d listened to her advice then.