Go to sleep now, little ugly. Go to sleep now, you little fool.

I've grown a beard.
There's been no reason for it, other than I just wanted to do something different with my face.
It now presents me with somewhat of a dilema; keep it or lose it.
If I keep it, then I'm wondering if I should leave it au naturel giving the likes of Brian Blessed a run for his money or should I tend to it with care and attention as if it's some new facial accessory. Either way, it's not just myself I have to think about. I can't imagine it's a very nice feeling having whispy bristles rubbing into all sorts of intimate places. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like to have feelings of pleasure disrupted by the sensation of brillo pads rubbing up against certain parts of my body.
Which leaves me the second option of losing it. Fairly easily done, however it's now a length that is beyond a simple razor's comprehension. The results would kill the usable life of at least one, maybe two razors with all the scraping and dragging through, most likely leaving me with shaving rash a-plenty.

Who ever thought a beard could prove to be so much bloody trouble.

Stop in the morning, through to the evening. Dance like you’re the only one around.

Magna res est vocis et silentii temperamentum.

I'm in the business of misery, let's take it from the top. She's got a body like an hourglass, it's ticking like a clock.

Two gig nights in summary:

30 Seconds To Mars.
Initial thoughts of "what the fuck!" when standing in a queue to the venue. Never had to queue before a gig like that before! Ever! An hour later, we finally got in.
Support band were pretty good, but tried way too hard. Don't even know who they were?! Quite liked the bassist's "Eat Shit and Die" T-shirt though.
Dramatic entrance by 30 Seconds To Mars. Didn't recognize the first song, possibly down to awful, awful sound mixing. Why is it that the first song is always so bad with the mix? Isn't that what the sound check is for?
Tight set. Great light show. Gigantic guitar sounds. Very, very loud. Once the sound was sorted out, Jared's vocals were brilliant, and boy can that guy scream. Damn good looking dude as well. Drummer pounded away like his life depended on it. Nice acoustic break towards the end. Lot's of crowd surfing. Couple of stupid idiots trying to get a mosh-pit going. Brave move by Jared stage diving into the crowd, twice.
Really enjoyed the gig. Not so, the tenner it cost to park the car.


Paramore.
Initial thoughts of "you gotta be fucking joking!" when it became all too apparent this queue beat the previous one, hands down. Cold, drizzle, biting winds. Surrounded by kids with pen scribble all over their arms and hands. Rumours sweeping the queue that 200 extra tickets had been sold in error and some people would be refused entry. Oh great! It's like a fucking MySpace party out here!
Doors open at 7pm. Finally get into the venue just after 8pm. Just in time to hear "thanks, you've been great" coming from the departing band on stage. Fantastic planning by the promotors, NOT!
Next band on is Kids In Glass Houses. Welsh. Pretty good from what I heard. Obviously have a huge MySpace following. A little bit like Funeral For A Friend, without the shouty guy. Crowd sings along to all the songs. Loud, short set, but lots of confidence. I liked them.
New Found Glory are next on. Used to like some of their songs. Have a new dislike for them now. Arrogant, up their own arses, bunch of tossers. Sound mix was all over the place. Eight song set that included two cover versions?! During one of them, Hayley (from Paramore) comes on to duet and it's awful. What the fuck?! Once again, crowd loved them. Two mosh-pits appear. Wonderful! Bunches of 12 to 16 year olds attempt to 'go all krazy'. Me secretly hoping they say "...and now for our last song....". Can't come soon enough. Twats.
Paramore finally show up at 9.40pm. Crowd goes nuts. Never seen so many camera-phones being held up in my life. People around me mention posting their footage on YouTube. I'd like to say they did a great set. They didn't. I was desperately trying to ignore the fact the guitarist's mic was louder than Hayley's for almost half the set. It's ok though, the MySpace crowd don't seem to be bothered by it. 70 minutes later and it was all over.
I like their latest album, so I was frustrated and ultimately very disappointed by the live experience. For me, they just didn't cut it as a live band and apart from blaming the dreadful audience, I just don't know why. At several points during the night, it actually felt like a Hannah Montana concert (but with louder guitars and the occasional power chord). Not that I've been to one of those, but I've seen the TV show, seen the clips, read the blurb....
They were selling pre-orders for a ltd edition CD recorded from the night's gig. Ha! Good luck to the sound mixer on that one!

For me, a very, very disappointing gig. Almost up there with Evanescence.

Come break me down. Bury me, bury me. I am finished with you.

I think I'm allowing too many things to influence me.
My decisions.
They are mine.

My dreams are filled with the stuff of nightmares.
Taunting me.
Casting doubts.

I give myself until the end of this week to be sure. To put it to sleep. To end the constant cycle of 'this', 'that' and 'the other'. Not to mention the 'what ifs'.
My focus is blurred by all this indecision and it's doing my head in. I need that focus to bring back my aim.

There's plenty of time this weekend to do some serious soul searching, in between the 30 Seconds To Mars gig tonight and the Paramore one on Monday.

Stop burying your head in the sand!

It's not over tonight. Just give me one more chance to make it right.

I've come to the conclusion that I'm a bad reader. If that's the correct way of saying it.
What I mean is, I can happily pick up a book to read. I like it. I enjoy it. But it's the way I read that's so bad. At compelling parts, I get completely sucked in and can't help but allow my eyes to jump ahead. Not loads, just a little further down the page. Just enough to find out what I needed to know. And I skim read too, to find what I need quicker.
I can't help myself. I always do it.
I always feel guilty about it then, 'cos when I go back to read from where I was, I already know where it's going. So I've all but ruined it for myself. Taken away a climax!
I've never, ever skipped from within a book, right to the last page to see the conclusion. But I wonder if what I do is some kind of new fangled medical condition. And what if this condition grows into something bigger. Would I be destined to feed my craving so much, I'd do the dirty deed and read that last page?

I guess I could judge how much I enjoyed a book by how guilty I felt about reading it.

Mum gave me £50 to get some shopping in for myself. She's so good to me. I've had to put it in my bank account to cover a debit coming out. How fucking crap is that?! Times is 'ard. I could really use a break right about now.
I've had a smoke.
I really miss The Girl.
She said she would wait until however long it took. I can't even begin to describe how amazing it felt to be me right then. That another person would ever think so much of me as to say that.

Deep inside, I don't think I've ever felt happier.

Who's got a match? I've got the petrol to set it to.

So, the weekend....

Cheese on toast, red wine, weed, Star Wars Monopoly, Sweeney Todd, yummy shortbread, Linkin Park, drunk girls fighting, reconciliation with mojo, no milk, hair colouring, crazy mosh-pit, dry chicken, first time bus journey, more wine, broken Sat Nav, mini Snickers, wrong turn, lone tram journey, car buying tips, more weed, over-knee socks, mouldy bread, spaced out cats, smelly fish, lack of sleep.

Time goes by so slowly for those who wait. And those who run seem to have all the fun.

I think I've lost my mojo.

I tried so hard and got so far. But in the end, it doesn't even matter. I had to fall, to lose it all. But in the end, it doesn't even matter.

Dear week commencing the 14th of January,

I know you're not officially over yet, what with the weekend looming, but so far you have proved to be a complete waste of time.

Whilst I'm a firm believer that 'tomorrow is another day', you've done nothing to confirm that line of thinking, instead choosing to make each and every day as utterly rubbish as each other. There have even been times when I've not realised what day it is and have had to double check, which is simply not good enough.

Each day you should have not only provided me with some work, but also with a phone call or two, allowing me to plan for more work in advance. To say you've failed in this department is an understatement of the largest proportion. Not only has the phone been deathly quiet, but I've not even had enough work to restock my fridge. Did you see my fridge last week!? In addition, I'm now also facing a week ahead with just one job tentatively booked in. This simply isn't good enough and I am seriously considering writing a strongly worded letter to Chronos and the screen-writers of "Gone With The Wind".

You've done nothing to arrest my dislike of daytime TV (although i did love the re-runs of Ally McBeal if I'm totally honest), but I'm sick, sick, sick of seeing adverts about Debt Consolidation, Car Insurance, that fucking Churchill dog, those goons from Halifax singing and dancing and I'm even tired of the trailers for the new series of Skins. And just who the fuck does Jeremy Kyle think he is? I know what I think he is!

I've been getting up early, only to be presented with another flat day. Even though I've tried to be as pro-active as I can about filling my days with work, by early afternoon, my motivation and drive have flown the coop and I'm left feeling like I might as well write the rest of the day off. I've been going to bed at a reasonable time, only to find myself lying there worrying about things and dreading that the following day isn't just a repeat of today. Needless to say it has been.

Every night, you've presented me with bad dreams. Two of which involved such horrible things that I've been jerked out of my bodily rest and thrust into the dark and dingy reality that is my bedroom. You've ignored my pleas to have naughty dreams about The Girl and instead have given me mixed visions that have horrified me to the point of waking up in a startled and bemused state.

Not only have you been utterly crap as far as work is concerned, but it's obviously had a knock-on effect on my finances, meaning I can't go to see The Girl this weekend. I don't think I need to explain how pissed off that makes me feel.

The only comforting thing is knowing that you wont be around next week, specifically next weekend, when I will be spending some time with The Girl and then topping the weekend off by seeing Linkin Park play.
That aside, it's been a complete waste of a week of my life and I sincerely hope our paths never cross again.

Yours annoyingly,
bedshaped

p.s.
This is the first time in a long while that I feel my depression biting at my heels again. Thank you so much for that.

There are no raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses. It's sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses.

I think one of the worst things about living on your own is how common it is to feel uneasy or scared. Or maybe it's just me.
Sometimes, it's easily explained things making those unusual noises, but that doesn't stop your heart skipping beats or your breathing rhythm to quieten and slow down enough to enable you to hear a pin drop. Then your mind starts wandering and you find yourself imagining all sorts of things.

It happened earlier, while I was soaking in the bath.
It's one of my few luxuries nowadays, to run a hot bath and have a nice long soak, complimented with a book or magazine and music playing in the background. I could hear voices outside, but was unsure if they were out the back of the house or out the front. Out the back would be impossible, I thought, because unless someone is willing to scale a six foot fence, (in the dark....in the pouring rain....through some very muddy fields) there's no way for them to get around there. So, must be out the front then. That's not so bad. It's probably just people walking down the road, past the house.
I settled back into my magazine, putting it down to nothing unusual.
Several minutes later, there's a thud. Then another one. Then another, sounding like something is being thrown against the window downstairs.
By this time, I'm like a startled cat, sensing impending doom.
Another couple of thuds, then definitely something weighty slamming against my front door. I've now reduced my breathing to that of a corpse and my mind is racing. Should I get out and investigate? Should I shout something down the stairs? Should I just make any kind of noise so whoever it is knows somebody is in? Of course, who-ever it was must have known the house wasn't empty because they would have been able to hear the music playing and seen some lights on.
While my mind is trying to think of something sensible to do, the doorbell rings. I have a doorbell that doubles as an intercom, so when the button is pressed on the outside, I can hear who it is on the speaker that's at the bottom of the stairs. I could hear voices. Whispering. Then laughing. Then shouting. Then nothing; the intercom had switched off.
There was one more bang on the door. Not a 'knock'. A definite bang. The voices raised up again, then faded away, presumably as whoever it was moved off.
I lay there in the bath, unable to enjoy my magazine, the music or my rare luxurious moment anymore. It had been ruined. Bastards!
I stayed in there for another five or ten minutes before deciding I felt confident enough to get out, get dressed and come downstairs to investigate. Before I went downstairs, I checked outside from the safety of an upstairs bedroom, without the light on of course.
Downstairs, I sheepishly opened the front door and checked to see if I could see anything unusual. I was half-expecting to find my car or van had been damaged or perhaps a horses-head had been left by the steps.
Nothing. It all looked ok.
False alarm then.

I've probably watched far too many horror movies!

I hate confrontation.
When I've been out with friends and trouble has kicked off, I'm the first to back the hell out of there. I've been caught up in a nasty fight outside a club once before and I learnt a valuable lesson from that night. Never be anywhere near a fight again.

When I think about it, I've been in a few potentially serious situations, so it's no wonder that I'm nervous when I think I can smell danger. Ok, so the bath story wasn't exactly danger per se, but I think my experiences have perhaps instilled a safety mechanism inside my head that makes me more susceptible to wanting to run or hide than be in any kind of scary situation. Either that or I'm just a big pussy!

The nightclub fight involved glasses and bottles being broken and used to lash out at people. I have no idea how it started, but once it kicked off, anybody who was even close to the rumble (which after a short time involved at least 10 people) got dragged into it. The screaming and shouting was deafening. The door security weren't getting involved, presumably because it was outside the club, although they did keep shouting that the police were on their way. Luckily, this was enough to make most people see sense and eventually, people who'd been thrown to the ground were able to get up and walk away.

I stupidly chased a guy who I'd watched steal something from the shop I was working in. I'd obviously been influenced by too much Starsky and Hutch, although none of that came as any help when he suddenly stopped running, turned on his heels and pulled out a sharpened screwdriver on me.

In my more active clubbing days, I had a knife pulled on me because I was apparently talking to a girl who this particular guy liked and wanted to teach me a lesson. A few weeks later, he came up to me in a different club and said he never intended to use it on me. He just wanted to scare me off. I told him he'd done a good job.

One of the worst ones I can remember is having a neighbour from hell. A couple of weeks after moving in, the guy next door decided he didn't like me. Stupidly loud music was just the beginning. It was bloody Country and Western as well! Loud banging on the walls followed, along with lots of shouting, swearing and threatening directed at me. The walls were so thin I could hear every "pfffffssssttt" when he opened another can of beer. This went on for a couple of weeks, coming to a horrible conclusion when one night he decided shouting through the walls wasn't good enough and proceeded to try and kick down the front door, telling me that when he got inside, I was gonna "get it". Fortunately, he wasn't able to kick the door down and went back round to his own house, ranting and raving about something. Unfortunately, he returned a few minutes later with a samurai sword and began hacking at my front door. Obviously, I'd phoned the police by this time. In fact, I'd phoned them way before he got to the 'hacking' stage. They were certainly taking their time though and jumping out of the window briefly entered my head.

There was also a 'road rage' incident a few years back. I wasn't aware that I'd done anything wrong, but a guy in the car behind me obviously thought otherwise and took his opportunity to tell me when we pulled up at some traffic lights on red. He pulled up alongside me, wound his window down and began to shout and scream at me as if I'd just been caught sleeping with his partner or something. I tried my best to ignore him and 'willed' the lights to turn green, but my prayers weren't answered and next thing I knew, he was out of his car and thumping on my window asking me to "step outside".

Without having to think too hard, it appears I've been in a few 'situations' but luckily none of them resulted in anything more damaging than turning me into a scaredy-cat.

Procrastination running circles in my head. While you sit there contemplating, you’ll wind up left for dead.

Blogging....It's a funny old game, eh?

Obviously, it's all about personal preferences when it comes to which blogs one reads.
For me, I like a recipe of honesty, wit, comedy and tragedy. Add a dash of reflection, optimism, observation and real life, all folded nicely into a mixing bowl that's dished out on a reasonably regular basis. I like opinionated people who can be passionate about their thoughts and feelings. People who aren't afraid to bare their souls on personal matters. People who can be controversial, without sounding like an arrogant twat. People who actually enjoy interaction with others and who don't judge other bloggers by their sparse comments boxes. People who are aware of the unwritten blogging rules and aren't afraid to bend and break them, without being an obnoxious twonk.
I can't be arsed with reading about who fancies who in school, "why the whole world doesn't understand me", endless and pointless memes, or regurgitated bollocks that's basically been copied and pasted from somebody else's place. But like I said, that's just me, because obviously thousand of others do.

According to Technorati, who are currently tracking 112.8 million blogs, there are 175 thousand new blogs being created every day. Obviously, a lot of these never get off the ground for one reason or another. I've read that almost 80% of blogs are abandoned within the first month and just over 1 million never even get past that first posting. I guess that's mostly down to the blogging platforms making it so easy to create a blog in the first place.

Statistics aside though, there's still a mahoosive amount of people blogging out there. So why is it that I still find it so difficult to find a guy's blog engaging enough that I want to keep going back to it? I want to find more blogs written by guys that will stimulate my interest enough that I can't help but keep going back.
I know there are some really good blogs written by guys out there that are hugely popular, and rightly so. Some of them I have bookmarked but not linked from here. I find myself a little put off by them though, mainly because of their popularity and the fact that their comment boxes are choc-a-bloc with responses from other bloggers that make me feel somehow insignificant. A little silly on my part, I know, but that's just how I feel. In fact, the contents of comment boxes on certain blogs can be intimidating for me, enough so that I shy away from returning as regularly as I'd like, or even at all. Or sometimes I will continue returning, but never comment myself or even open the comments up, which is a shame because it takes away some of the essence of it being a blog in the first place.
Maybe I'm just too picky!

I love the idea of blogging. In the past few years, it's arguably changed the way the people of this world of ours are perceived. If nothing else, it's become an extraordinary tool to bring people closer together in some way, shape or form. Of course, it's also flourished in becoming a great way for budding writers, artists et al to be discovered, when in the past they may never have even got their foot in the door.

The main point of this entry was to highlight the fact that I find it difficult to find good blogs by guys. This got drowned out somewhat by the rest of the post and in essence, that apparently makes me a crap blogger myself for not sticking to the point in question and getting side-tracked too much.
Oh well.

I’m a binary code that you cracked long ago. But to you I’m just a novel that you wish you’d never wrote.

During the recent festivities, I acquired one of these:

I have to admit, I've never really been that taken with Laptops. In fact, when I showed The Girl, she was the more excited one and at one point I thought she was gonna take it up to her bedroom and start stroking and caressing it. Luckily for me, she was preoccupied getting killed by some person (probably on the other side of the world) on World Of Warcraft.

To test out the wireless connectivity, we tried to hook it up to The Girl's connection. And tried. And tried. With a little bit of fiddling and undoubtedly a lot of luck, we finally managed it. They don't make it easy, do they?
We both had a chuckle when my Laptop was searching for 'active' connections within its range and it picked up The Girl's neighbours' connection. Amusingly, instead of just having a 'standard' name such as SKY###### or BT-INTERNET######, it was listed under their names; Jack and Jill's Internet*. Considering the neighbour has gone through several boyfriends since splitting with her husband and seems to have only just settled down with a steady partner in the last few months, I wondered at what point in their relationship she decided to rename her internet connection. Bizarre! And slightly amusing.

I may start blogging from my Laptop. Once I figure out how to type on the finicky keyboard without making spelling mistakes every other word.

*Real names changed to protect the innocent.

Just 'cos you’re raising the bet and call the shots now on me. It really doesn’t faze me how you spend your time.

I took this a few minutes ago:



No, I'm not de-frosting or cleaning my fridge out. This is simply the current sad state of affairs of its contents....or lack of. Oh, and those eggs went out of date on the 18th of December. Go me!

Still....think of the money I'm saving by not filling it up (not that it's ever full anyway). I'd like to say I'm also losing weight due to lack of food to eat, but I was bought a tin of Celebrations for Christmas and it would be rude of me not to eat them, right. Except the Snickers ones of course. Damned food of the Devil!

My mum would hit the fucking roof if she saw how pathetic my fridge looked. Perhaps a good job then that my folks never visit me, huh. I've decided to save empty packs of things and print out pictures of fruit and salads to put in the fridge, just in case they decide to pay me a visit.

This quiet serves only to hide you, provide you. What I knew, what I knew, it'd come back to you.

There are so many things I want to achieve this year, it's difficult to know just where to begin. Being devoid of a beginning doesn't make the goal any less achievable, it just means the journey may be a little more bumpy.

And why is it New Years Eve is always shit? Don't ya know what I mean man, deal wiv it.

It's been a real eye-opener just how many double entendres are involved in my line of work.
Often, I can have a conversation with a girl about her "blocked pipes", "internal flanges being ruptured" or "issues with her dumping" and neither of us will bat an eye-lid (although inside, I'm sniggering away like a schoolkid).
And I wonder, will I ever grow tired of this?!

With Christmas and New Year holidays almost upon us, it appears that cooking the festive dinners, general over indulgence with food and family/friend get-togethers present their own abundance of double entendre opportunities. So with this in mind, I thought I'd list a few in the hope that anybody who stumbles along this here blog might like to take the opportunity to "slip the occasional one in!" Yano, just for shits and giggles.

• "Smother the butter all over the breast."
• "I've never seen such an inviting spread."
• "It's a little dry, but I'm still gonna enjoy eating it?"
• "Stuff it up between the legs as far as it will go."
• "I prefer breast to legs."
• "I'm in the mood for a little dark meat."
• "How long will it take once you put it in?"
• "That's the biggest bird I've ever had."
• "Tying the legs together keeps the inside moist."
• "I wish you wouldn't play with your meat."
• "Just wait your turn, you'll get some."
• "Wow! I didn't think I could handle all that and still want more."
• "You still have a little bit on your chin."
• "If I don't undue my trousers, I'm gonna burst!"
• "Are you ready for seconds yet?"
• "I'm so full because I've been gobbling nuts all morning."
• "Do you think you'll be able to handle having all these people all at once?"
• "I didn't expect everybody to come at the same time."
• "Just pull the end and wait for the bang!"
• "That's the most I've stuffed in my mouth all year!"
  

A safe Christmas and peaceful New Year to all.

x

Nothing unusual, nothing's changed. Just a little older, that's all.

Not that I'm complaining, but I've been really busy over the last week or so. The phone has been regularly ringing and I've been running about here, there and everywhere to work as much as I can. My bank account has been creeping back towards the black and the intimidating phone calls from various Companies appear to have ceased.
I wonder....is this the turnaround I craved or something more temporary?
My car eventually passed the MOT (costing almost £300), so all I have to do now is find a buyer for it. I don't fancy my chances shifting it before the end of the year, so it's first on the 'to-do' list after December is over with.

Most of my time off over the Christmas period will be spent with The Girl. Our second together.
Forget aftershave, socks, books, DVD's, etc etc. All I want is to spend time with The Girl who stole my heart when I wasn't looking.

Trying to get hold of some weed for the break is proving a lot more difficult than usual. Crikey, it's like the (typical) summer drought around here!

The end of the year is nigh. It's been a struggling bunch of pissy pants and sweaty camel's bollocks at times, but it appears that I may well survive after all.

Ooh my little pretty one, pretty one. When you gonna give me some time, Sharona?

How on earth do girls remember what make-up products they are supposed to be buying when Company's like Olay and L'Oreal have such ridiculous names for their stuff.

I mean, come on....

Regenerist Daily Regenerating Serum.
Total Effects 7 Signs Serum.
Pro-Vital Energising Moisture Fluid.
Complete Care Multi-Radiance Fluid.
Touch Sensory Moisturising Cream SPF 15 UV Protection.
Classic Care Active Beauty Fluid Hypo-Allergenic (Sensitive).
Derma Genesis Cellular-Nurturing Moisturiser.
Micro-Dermabrasion Kit.
Glycolic Peel.

Seems to me you need some kind of Doctorate in order to buy girly products nowadays.
All these fancy names seem to have come right to the fore-front in the last year or so. Perhaps it's a clever marketing tool, gaining better sales because it sounds like like such a complex product. 'Face Cream' obviously doesn't cut the mustard anymore in this day and age.
I wonder if other products will follow suit in years to come. Perhaps the days of asking for a pack of Tampax are numbered.

I spy with my little eye, something that begins with I don't care.

Fuck and Bollocks.
Two words that describe the day quite well I feel.
Although of course it's all open to interpretation.

Tomorrow is another day
Tomorrow is another day
There's no place like home....

To live without my music, would be impossible to do. In this world of troubles, my music pulls me through.

I'm always up for a bit of musical experimentation. Even with my (sometimes) diverse tastes and listening choices, artists inevitably pass me by. I strive to remain open to suggestions of different stuff (old and new) to load into my player and with this in mind, swisstoni's shuffleathon provides a great opportunity to listen to music that for one reason or another has either never graced my ears before or has fell into that 'old, but not not forgotten' category.

The idea is simple:

First of all there needs to be a list of participants who are willing (and able) to make a mix-cd. The names of the people taking part are then placed in a 'hat' and drawn out in typical lottery stylee, the results being that we are then informed which other person we are to send our beloved mix-cd. Simple no?
What goes on the cd that we send is down to personal preference. Some people like to make a compilation of songs that reflect a certain something about themselves. Some people like to tailor their cd towards the person they know will be receiving it. And some people probably like to include something quite 'different', especially if they already know who's gonna be on the receiving end, just to add more interest.
The final rule is that the recipient gives the cd a 'good listen' before posting a summary and review on their own blog. Repeat plays are not only heavily encouraged, but also essential, because a lot of love, time, effort, care and attention has gone into compiling said cd and to post a blasé summary and review after a couple of spins would be as welcome as a smack in the chops for the person who compiled and sent it. Not to mention being a big piss take of the entire project.

My shuffleathon sender was sarah, who apparently used to have a blog, but now resides more on Flickr here. I don't know who she is, although I've seen her dotting about on PostOfTheWeek and the occasional comments box, so I went and had a looksie at the pictures she posts on Flickr. Needless to say, apart from seeing she is a budding photographer, it's not given me much more to go on. The fact that I know little about my shuffle-buddy is neither here nor there for me anyway. It's much more important to me what's on the cd. So without anymore waffling....here's what I thought....

Before I say anything else, I would like to say that the cover she made for me was great and obviously took some thought. There was also a little note giving excuses for the delay in posting (much the same as mine - swapping tracks at the last minute etc), a little about herself, including her now defunct blog arestisasgoodasachange and flickr address sabbat1cal, and a hidden track listing (just in case I wanted to be surprised).

Oh and I should also mention that when I did finally look at the track listing that was tucked away behind the plastic cd insert, I was initially thrown because there was a track missing. The cd has 18 tracks on it but the list only shows 17. Was this the elusive 'hidden track' that graces so many cd's nowadays or simply an error. Was there a subtle message being given, was it something more 'in depth', or did sarah simply forget to list it? Who knows? Maybe I should get scooby doo on the case.

So, without any more waffling, here we go:

One : The Streets - Turn The Page.
I really like their 'Original Pirate Material' album. In fact, I think it's my favourite of theirs. I really liked 'A Grand Don't Come For Free', but lost my love for it when everybody else seemed to jump on the wagon and it got killed by radio overplay. Let's not mention 'The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living' eh!
Anyway, great way to begin. Strings (I love strings - even sampled ones). Fantastic programmed beats and some clever rhymes. When Mike Skinner gets it right, he gets it right. When this came on, I cranked the volume right up and enjoyed every minute of it. Brilliant!

"Stand by me my apprentice."

Two : ....And You Will Know Us From The Trail Of Dead - Will You Smile Again.
I've heard some of their stuff, but this track doesn't ring any bells. Guitar driven, with crashing drums and pounding bass that builds up an intro that lasts 1 minute 40, before it falls down into a gentle sound complimented by a little brass and haunting vocals. I like it. This is the sort of stuff I listen to and I'll certainly be delving into more of their back catalogue. I find his vocals touching on Liam (Oasis) and even Brian Molko (Placebo) at times, which in my books is a good thing. The changes in tempo work really well and make it stand out as a very listenable song. Yeah, I really like this and this track is a perfect example of why I joined in with the shuffleathon. I bet they're a great live band too.

"Would you smile again for me."

Three : The Beatles - Helter Skelter.
Some four piece bunch of likely lads from Liverpool. Ok, so I may get shot down in flames for saying this (it happens with my friends and family often), but I just don't get The Beatles. Yes, I recognise how influential they have been. Yes, I realise they were seen as head and shoulders above everything else at the time. Yes, I realise that there was a certain amount of genius in their (John and Paul's) song-writing, but purlease. This track reminds me of U2 from their Rattle and Hum days and I had a real hard time with that album. I'm afraid this track is tainted for me. Perhaps a different track by the 'Fab Four' would have been better received by me. For me, the best parts of this track are the 'false' endings.

"I'm coming down fast, but don't let me break you"

Four : The Smiths - You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby.
Aah, yes. Can anybody go wrong with The Smiths? Not in my eyes (or ears). This track has made me dig out all my old Smiths tracks and for that I'm truly grateful. I always liked the fact that they were a love 'em or hate 'em band. Jangly guitars, off key vocals and clever lyrics. What more could you want. I hope that they will never be swayed to reform, because that will just kill the magic for me.

"If you're wondering why. When all I wanted from life was to be famous"

Five : Japan - Life In Tokyo.
Blimey, I haven't heard this for ages. Why don't we hear more of this? It's a bloody classic. Nu-Romantic at it's best. You can keep your Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, Ultravox et al. This is pure classic. It could, and probably was all played on one or two synths, but who gives a fuck. This is the sort of song that would sit perfectly in a soundtrack for a film based in the 80's starring John Cusack. David Sylvian's voice doesn't shine too much on this track, but I've got some of his solo stuff and it's just brilliant. A lot more mellow, but brilliant none-the-less. A nice trip back in time for me.

"Somewhere there's a sound of distant living "


Six : We Are Scientists - Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt.
Thumping track from a great album. A track driven by crashing drums and noisy guitar. Nice vocals from the lead singer and a great use of the 'stop/start' technique. A good example of a song with a chorus hook that digs into your skin and wont let up for at least a few weeks.

"The day, you move, I'm probably gonna explode."

Seven : Cud - Hey, Boots.
Who? I'm not so sure about this one. A short track coming in at just under 3 minutes with fast strumming guitar, tinny drums and a repetitive vocal. Nothing is grabbing me with this track, which is surprising because it's reminding me of stuff like The Cure (which I like). I've given it loads of repeat plays and it's just not grabbing me. I do like the cow-bell though. You can never have enough cow-bell. I really tried with this one, but it did little to grab my attention. Sorry.

"Questions asked and doubts arose. He should've seen beyond his nose."

Eight : Jefferson Airplane - White Rabbit.
I know the band. I even know the title of the track. Have I heard it before? Well, possibly, but it's not something that's stuck with me over the years. Is this really the band that evolved into Starship that did that awful "We built this city". I fucking hate that song. Military style drums on the snare, with pickety guitar and a nice female vocal all make this a nice song. After a couple of listens to the song, I wondered if I was right about the subject matter; drugs. Yep, I think I'm bang on there. I quite like the way the song slowly builds up. I just wish it didn't end so abruptly. Good song though.

"And you've just had some kind of mushroom. And your mind is moving low"

Nine : Pet Shop Boys feat Rufus Wainwright - Casanova In Hell.
When they were in the charts all the time, I never really gelled with the PSB. If I'm honest, I found them a little boring. The only time their songs managed to raise my eyebrows were when they got remixed and it's only then when I found them interesting. Ok, so maybe that's a little harsh. I like this track though, mainly because it a small dose of The Pet Shop Boys and a large dose of Rufus and let's face it....Rufus has got a wonderful voice. So mellow. Lots of harmonised vocals on this track, meandering along with the programmed synths. It's a live track and it makes me wonder if I already have it somewhere on my pc. Ultimately a nice song, saved by the vocal talents of Mr Wainwright.

"Her sharp suggestion. He couldn't get an erection."

Ten : Dusty Springfield - If You Go Away.
R.I.P Dusty. A wonderful voice. Another track that I wanted to turn right up to 'eleven'. Strings drive this song along and it's a beautiful journey. Dusty's vocals make me all moist and when she sings in French...Oh My gdfjfk;sieoywt[ort. Sorry, I think I've just cum!
Wonderful production and arrangement on this song, reminiscent of Spector's Wall Of Sound. Strings, harps, flutes....Yep, this is a wonderful, wonderful song. That final line is shit though. It should never have been there.

"I'll sail on your smile, I"ll ride on your touch, I"ll talk to your eyes, that I love so much."

Eleven : Bryan Ferry/Roxy Music - Oh Yeah.
For me Roxy Music are only memorable for two songs; Love is the drug and Virginia Plain. I could never understand their appeal and Bryan's voice does absolutely nothing for my ears. I also thought he was a bit of a cock too. I actually quite like the song, it's just his voice. All I can think of when this song plays is karaoke bars. Sorry, I tried my best.

"There's a band playing on the radio and it's drowning the sound of my tears."

(Hidden Track) : Ben Folds Five - Don't Change Your Plans.
I've heard a fair bit of Ben & co and really like them. I'm sure I caught them on one of the stages at a Virgin Music Festival, but to be honest....I may have been very stoned. He's got a great voice. Really lustrous. Piano driven and a jolly vocal, loose drumming and bulging basslines make for a really good song. This has 'summer song' written all over it. I particularly like the way it comes to a faltered tempo when the chorus kicks in and there's some great harmonies in it too. It's a feel good song, which is a strange thing to say considering it's a sad love song and it's been a firm favourite on the cd, which is interesting if indeed it was 'hidden' intentionally. Fantastic piano!

"All I really wanna say is you're the reason I wanna stay."

Twelvety : The House Of Love - Shine On.
Wow. Some good memories attached to this track for me. I remember when this track hit the radio and it always stood out for me as something 'different' at the time. It has a great nostalgic feel to it, a la Joy Division and still stands the test of time. Catchy chorus and a great guitar riff that sticks like glue. I don't remember them doing anything anywhere near as good, which is a shame. Yet another track that I reached for the volume control.

"I don't know why I dream this way. The sky is purple and things are right every day."

Thirteen : Divine Comedy - Our Mutual Friend.
For some reason, I decided to miss out on who-ever was playing the Pyramid Stage and the Other Stage at Glastonbury one year to watch Neil and co play in some tent to end the festival jollities. Actually, the reason may have had something to do with being stoned. Yes, yes, I know! Anyway....they were great! And you know what? I didn't even like them. But watching them close the Festival (in a tent) was a great experience and it was at that point I decided to stop disliking them.
I love the pulsating strings in this track. In fact the whole arrangement is great. Typical vocals by Neil, delivered in almost a Morrissey style. Hate the tambourine though. Yeah, the tambourine can fuck right off. And the brass doesn't do much for me either. That said, it's a quaint song that trips along quite nicely and has nothing really offensive in it. Helped along massively by the clever lyrics, delivered in a story type way and I've found myself listening to this one quite a lot too. Maybe I should dig out some of their old stuff again.

"And we sang a song that I can't sing anymore. And then we kissed and fell unconscious."

Fourteen : Massive Attack - Unfinished Sympathy.
How refreshing to see that sarah used the correct title and not 'Unfinished Symphony' as many other numb-nuts do. It's a fucking great song. Cow bells, haunting synths, great vocals.... Great video too. Apparently shot in one take. It's one of those songs that many people know, without actually knowing who it's by. It's a sample fiesta with cello, strings, scratching, female vocal samples and tinkering percussion that all come together in a song that's nothing short of genius.

"You're the book that I have opened and now I've got to know much more."

Fifteen : LCD Soundsystem - North American Scum.
I'm not too familiar with this band, although I know the name. I like the bleeps married with the programmed beats. If this is a good example of what they are like, then I'm gonna be investigating further. In fact, why am I saying that. I'm gonna anyway, so fuck you. A little repetitive but after a few listens it's certainly stuck in my head.

"So throw a party till the cops come in and bust it up."

Sixteen : Carole King - I Feel The Earth Move.
Do I sound horrible if I say that I really like her songs, but when somebody else sings them. Nice jangly piano and old skool feel with smoothe, smoothe vocals but I find the passion lacking when she sings. She was probably off her face on something. Who knows. It's a cool background kind of song. Something to have on when friends are round.

"I know that my emotions are something that I can't tame. I've just got to have you, baby."

Seventeen : Johnny Cash - Five Feet High And Rising.
Strange and quirky choice to end the cd, but it works well. Echo on the plucky guitar and typical old style harmonies give this a very listenable feel. Is it almost skiffle? I dunno? Johnny's voice pounds along and I can't help being left with a "the end already?" feeling due to the short length. It's a "more, more!" track. Nice way to end a varied collection though.

"We can't come back 'til the water goes down, five feet high and risin'."

And that's about it. All in all a complete success, even if I do say so myself.
I'd like to thank sarah for taking the time and effort to put this together. I'd also like to thank swisstoni for bringing it all together and give a name-check to yokospungeon for being the inspiration.
It's been a pleasure.

I don't feel alright, in spite of these comforting sounds you make.

Back in Middle School, I was usually in the top 3 or 4 of my class. My reports were always glowing, my parents loved going to Parent's Evening and I was generally touted around the rest of the family as 'The Brainy One".
I found middle school really easy. None of the subjects caused me any grief, although several of my teachers had an issue with my handwriting. I didn't write in joined up letters like everybody else did. My letters stood alone and it was only occasionally that with an extra whip of the pen, I would join onto the next letter. This was as a result of my schooling when we lived in South Africa, where everybody was taught to take care with each and every letter singularly.
I can remember one teacher in particular who disliked my writing so much, she would give me extra work to do. Mostly copying text from books in my own writing. She was a bit of a bitch to be honest, but obviously I was too young to understand the concept of bitches back then.
Most of the kids would refer to her with one of two nicknames; 'The Old Dinosaur', due to her ability to look 150 and not already be dead, or Mrs Germaline*, quite simply because she smelt like she bathed in the stuff.
Anyway, I feel I had the last laugh with her because she really praised one particular piece of 'extra work' that I showed her. It was my bestest joined up writing. Little did she know that I copied the text out in my normal handwriting and then went back through it and carefully joined up the letters. Ha, silly cow!

Middle School was probably my happiest schooling days. I enjoyed most of the lessons, although the structure was nowhere near as rigid as High School, as I found out to my horror. It was a time of sports lessons actually being fun, sex education being pathetically delivered by our science teacher, after school tuition learning to play drums and the strange realisation that girls were actually quite interesting. Of course it was many years later when I realised the word 'interesting' was totally inappropriate.
It was the time in my schooling life where I actually enjoyed getting up in the mornings and making that one mile trek, calling for my friends on the way. My South African accent was different enough to make me somehow quite interesting to the other kids, resulting in me being strangely popular.
I left Middle School with high praise from most of my teachers, with comments that I would excel at High School and go on to bigger and better things.
Just shows what they knew!

* For info purposes, Germaline is (or was?) an antiseptic cream that anybody over the age of 25 thought would cure anything. Didn't matter if it was a wasp sting, a graze on the knee, an ingrowing toe-nail, a poke in the eye, a hangover or a sore bum, as far as they were concerned Germaline would cure it all. I tried for a few minutes to find a decent reference to Germaline on the net, but after finding repeat pages about guys who like to use it as a lube when having anal sex, I thought I'd leave it.

You used to be alright. What happened? Did the cat get your tongue?

If it's to be believed, top 10 actress pay-cheques.

I think perhaps I'm in the wrong job.
Oh and also the wrong sex.

I wonder if it's true what they say; that when you get into a 'high earning bracket', that you have no idea how much a loaf of bread or a pint of milk costs.