WEEKEND WARZONE

Take a look at the beautiful woman airbrushed onto the equally beautiful guitar. It has long been public knowledge that I (and most other males in the known universe) have a special fondness for Ms Jenna Jameson. She now endorses Jackson guitars (who just happen to sponsor little ol' me) and it's like stars (literally) aligning. To quote a very entertaining and wise man "Oh yes! She will be mine!"

All that was a rather nifty way of informing you about my weekend. I played a show. On a guitar. A Jackson - no less. Well, the truth is I played one song as a cameo appearance to help some buddies out. But I did play a Jackson that looks just like the one in the picture, only it doesn't have the delectable Ms Jameson emblazoned on it... So. One song - quite a bit of palaver and then it's over in 2 minutes and 54 seconds. Much like my sex life. Bar the fanatical screaming...

The rest of the evening was spent celebrating my triumphant return to the stage and getting legless with some good mates. After having spent the previous evening getting legless with some good mates. So after having soaked up the adoration of about 2 people, it was business as usual. We were at the Harley Davidson Club in Cape Town. Wow! What a great place. Things are clean. The staff are great. It was a classic night all round. My favourite representatives from YourLMG were on hand to provide their legendary dose of good natured debauchery. Mine eyes were assaulted by all the incredibly hot girls. I swear I was like a kid in a candy store. Clifton can fuck right off - all the tattooed hotties at this party were waaaay better! Well, all except one. I was leaving backstage in an advanced stage of "jovial" when this poor sinner's eyes rested on a magnificent pair of legs that went all the way up. Cue involuntary drooling of epic proportions. Upon raising my gaze to take in the rest of this beauty, I felt damn well distinctly cheated. Awesome pins, but they belong to someone that will and should remain nameless. Buggery. Goes to show that being smoking hot isn't everything. Did I just really say that?

Anyhow. Onto the real reason behind this protracted missive. Much, much later and much, much boozier, I found myself at the Shack. It was at this last bastion for late night revelers that I bumped into this cutie pie . Like, the cutest little cutie pie ever. With a pinch of dangerous. Just the way I like em. What followed was a dronk conversation that I thought was going particularly well. My lurid ramblings actually seemed of interest to "little miss my entire bum fits into his one hand". Enter my uber-considerate friend - from now on known simply as Cock Blocker. So now I had the humiliating disappointment of not closing the deal to add to the monumental hangover in store for me.

So. Thanks Sailor Jerry Rum. Thanks Harley Davidson Club. Thanks Mike from YourLMG. Thanks Cape Town for having the hottest women on the planet. Thanks Lil Miss Cutie Bums and thanks Cock Blocker. Sunday morning could not have been any worse.

Spread the love this festive season. Most of it my way please.

Designated Disaster

So this weekend was a total bust. And not the good kind of bust...

Well, the birthday parties I went to were awesome. Right until I had to do the responsible thing and stop drinking. Then the rose tinted spectacles came clanging down with spectacular velocity.

You see, I no longer have what's lovingly refered to as a better half. Lamentable, I know. So I now spend a lot more time worrying about driving myself home. The extra beers I used to pack into the cooler box are now replaced with a 2l Sprite. Lame, I know... But at this time of year, it is advisable to exercise caution.

Add to that the distinct lack of service on hand when I took my car in on Saturday morning (I now have to wait en entire week) and the lack of stock of the other thing I was looking to buy (retail therapy) AND a relatively unsuccessful attempt at Christmas shopping, and you have one times bunny that - more so than usual - needed those extra drinks. Enter Mr Misery.

And DO NOT get me started on that suburb, Bumfuck, Ohio. You know the one prefered by every yuppy in Cape Town. Formerly known as Tableau Voi. I went to the mall there and it was closed at 6pm! 6PM! ! ! On a Saturday! In December! Smack in the middle of Yuletide madness! What.The.Fuck...

I still can't see how anyone can live there...

At least today is going alright...

Oh, and p(m)s, Congrats to the BlackMilkers for walking away with all the prizes. Now I'm never gonna hear the end of it.

Spread the love. You know mos.

Festival Of Beer

Now we know how and why religions start - and why they always have their own festivals. Just saying.


I've been very slack. My excuse is as follows. Documenting my last month or 2 and the kak I've had to go through is something I'd rather not share. Simple, innit?


I will tell you this though. I have done very well in the "drinking myself into sweet oblivion and thereby numbing any anguish I might otherwise have felt" stakes.

Your guess is as good as mine as to how far this current phase is going to last. Personally I think I'm getting to the "cult" status. Perhaps this weekend's FESTIVAL OF BEER might be just the thing to finally tip my boozing into the mystic realms of actual religion...


Personally, I recommend to any potential parishioners of my budding new faith the exquisite Napier Bier that'll be available over the weekend. Also a good friend of mine, known simply as JDP, brought me some Darling Beer recently, and it was quite good I must say.


Ok, it's not a budding new faith. It's a deep seated obsession and medicinal crutch.


So, see you at the Festival. I'm going Swaggart on yer ass! Plus I'm probably going to die -and find out just how successful my bid to turn alcoholism into "afterlife-like" religion- was or is. More info here: http://capetownfestivalofbeer.co.za/


Spread the love. By the tankard.

BLACK LABEL DRAUGHT AND MUSICAL MAYHEM

Urgh. It's official. I will never learn.


Last night I was in a fight. With Black Label Draught. It kicked my arse.


YourLMG and Mercury conspired to organise the mother of all music quiz nights. Our team of lovable delinquents finished third out of 20 participating teams! Third is the new last. There were prizes for the top 2 finishes. Bugger. Only prize I got was this monumental hangover.


Thanks to all involved and especially all in Team Burger King. \m/


Spread the love. Quietly.

Punt

Wow! Would you look at the awesome design work here. This is the official poster/flyer design for the LOVECATS event. Done by my mate Stephen Green http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=728745420

And he didn't complain once what all my to and fro and making adjustments, etc. The patience of Job and the talent of Michelangelo I tell you!

The beautiful ladies are the respective lead singers of the 3 bands that are performing on the night - DO NOT miss out! They were photographed by the mad and talented Dr-Benway http://www.facebook.com/#!/group.php?gid=5566143106 and this all happened at Rooiwolf Studios http://www.rooiwolfstudio.com/

So much has been given by so many in order to make this event possible. Please go and check out their work. And see you there!

Spread the luuurve good 'n' thick.

Monday Monster Moan

Hangovers. Crikey. Hangovers...

DSW birthday party on Saturday night. Went as a polar bear. Wore a white hoodie and white long johns. No one got it. The theme was "opposites". Maybe I'm too mysterious or subtle. Maybe people are dumb shits.

Saturday morning was greeted in the way I imagine I would greet the Grim Reaper one day. Crusty eyed and feeling like sewerage inside and out. Out into the blazing sun I strode and thought of offing myself. Must have still been drunk because next thing you know I'm off to C-Anal Walk. Don't ask. I don't know the answer.
But there I did behold a thing of rare wonder. Summer is here folks. All the girlies were prancing about in skimpy little shorts. It was glorious! Quite naturally my eyes were pulled in several directions at once, until they fell on the sight of sights.
A cell phone being carried around tucked snugly between two perfectly perky breasts. I tell you - it made my day! What an awesome concept.

Moving on.
Attempted a potjie last night. Success! So now, like most SA males, I hereby declare myself an expert. Celebrated the monumental success of the potjie with too much wine.

The cycle continues...

Spread the love in a consensual and responsible manner. And book you Lovecats ticket at computicket.

I love this shirt!

As usual - the title and picture of this blog have bugger all to do with the content...

Today I am reminded of all those people that buggered off in search of greener pastures. Whilst it IS true that we have some difficulties to overcome in our fair land, none of these has yet to overwhelmingly affect yours truly, so is the grass really greener on the other side?

But that's not the point of this post. I am looking forward tremendously to the return, albeit only for a holiday, of 2 of the nearest and dearest of these far away friends early next year.

I have already started planning activities and rounding up the locals to make sure their participation is guaranteed. Well, I thought we'd go wine tasting at Steenberg. That's about it so far...

In the not so distant future, I have a friend from the Big Shitty (Jhb) visiting which I am also looking forward to - should be an epic weekend (same as the one Lovecats is on - see below).


In other news, it is the other half of the Demonic Sibling Wolfpack's birthday today - Happy Snotty Birthday! Party of epic proportions planned for the weekend, with a theme of "opposites". What the fuck am I supposed to wear for opposites? The last time someone went vague with their fancy dress suggestion, I ended up going as a box of chocolates with red fishnet stockings on...

KICKIN' IT FOR THE KITTIES ! ! !

Lovecats is an annual event that showcases the best alternative bands for your entertainment and for a good cause.

*ALL PROCEEDS FROM THIS EVENT GET PAID DIRECTLY TO TEARS*
That's The Emma Animal Rescue Society.

This year boasts a group of bands that will blow your socks clean off! A strong line up of female fronted bands is set to rock your world! Add to that, the chance to win an electric guitar on the night and tons more prizes, this promises to be the most worthwhile babalas of your life!

Performing on 5th November at Mercury, from about 9:30pm onwards will be:
TERMINATRYX
COLD HAND CHEMISTRY
WITNESS TO WOLVES
BLACK ORCHID BURLESQUE TROUPE

Many, many people and organisations have been kind and generous enough to participate and contribute their skills, talent, time, product or service - and for that we should all be infinitely grateful.
Paul Bothner Music
Mercury Live
Wildfire Tattoos and Body Piercing Clinics
YourLMG Magazine
Black Milk Productions
Rooiwolf Photographic Studios
Cadillac Barbie
Nerine Dorman (author)
New Rock Boots and Shoes
Flamedrop Productions
SA Horrorfest
Wolf Clothing
Stephen Green Graphic Design

LOVECATS is also the official after party for the SA Horrorfest, which concludes earlier that evening. The organisers are very kindly rescreening 'Vick-Tory For The Underdog', a truly heartwarming 'tail' and the 'purrrrr'fect' warm up for what promises to be an awesome night out. Erm...
Also go out and pick up your very own copy of YourLMG, home of Cape Town's muso sect and the hosts of the Pub Quiz Night - the legendary nights where you lose more brain cells than you use... YourLMG, passed out at a bar near you!

And if that's not enough... Tons of prizes and give aways on the night! We are GIVING AWAY A GUITAR! YES YOU HEARD ME! You could walk away with a brand new guitar, proudly sponsored by Paul Bothner Music...

Please spread the word by any means necessary - and make a plan to be there!

Remember, remember, the 5th of November! Please send this along to anyone you think might enjoy it or that would be interested in attending. If not for the animals, then for the party animal in you and all of us!

Spread the love.

Monster Moan

Seriously.

MONSTER moan...

Seriously.

Fuck today.

It's been going 2 hours too long already...

Irreverent Friday - the Middle Finger theory...

Well, well, well…
Another Friday. Another springboard into the weekend. Another reason to spit in the eye of convention and do what YOU want to for a change.
The nice thing about being basically cowardly is the lack of bruises. As the working week rapidly draws to its natural, beer-flavoured conclusion and fades in the rear-view mirror, it becomes easier and easier to raise that middle finger of “aggravation turned to satisfaction” and push the accelerator of “sod off you bastards”.
So.
I am going to watch the much anticipated Anaphys launch tomorrow night at Albert Hall in the ‘Stock. Details here: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=144170332273422&index=1
For the rest I think it’s a fair assumption that I shall valiantly be trying to block everything and everyone out with copious amounts of booze. Perhaps I should give Tequila Tart a call…

I hope you all have an absolutely fantazmagorical weekend. Irreverently so.

Spread the love - with a spade.

Wednesday gonna break?

I have been told on many, many occasions that I have what people lovingly refer to as 'Wednesday legs'. As in 'Wednesday gonna break?’ I happen to think having long scrawny legs rocks.
Until this morning. How fortuitous to have this happen to me on an actual Wednesday then...
I'm in agony. Played football last night and have a new found respect for shinpads. I've been taking them for granted for far too long. Not only did the opposing team kick the crap out of me, I did it to myself! I actually managed to kick my own ankle with my own studs. Now that takes some skill...

Then when I got home I found an actual Italian in the pantry - whoohoo! It's the only explanation I could possibly come up with for the delectable bolognaise I made. And I HATE cooking. Like, like, like, like vehemently. Like Donald Trump hates the hairdresser. Like Mugabe hates British Colonialists. Like everybody hates emos, including emos.
But I might just have a signature dish here. You know, to add to my ever expanding culinary arsenal of "bacon and eggs"...

Have a great Wednesday all, and the answer to the question is "they just did".

Spread the love.

Irreverent Friday - the new plan.

If I had 5c for every time some idiot quoted (or misquoted) a cartoon series catchphrase or similar on Facebook or Twitter, I'd be a millionaire. And not the Zimbabwean kind.

Seems people have lost the ability to be original, unless they're being extremely irreverent, which is the other favourite. We don't count the 3rd category of person, the one that incessantly gives each other f*cking flowers or hearts.

Losers.

Anyway, that being said, the news of the day is that one of my fellow intrepid blogger boggers is auditioning for Survivor South Africa 2010. I really hope it's being hosted on some pristine, if naturally scary, beach or piece of bushveld. Anyway, as said blogger is going to be "out of the office" (holding thumbs), I thought maybe I could blog their progress on their behalf.


Can you imagine, ANOTHER daily update/reminder/creepy stalker following thread on the sordid goings-on that happen on an episode of Survivor. What I don't understand is how engaging it is. I mean, I get the attraction of watching other people suffer (us humans are nothing if not all slightly mean), but none of these people are drinking! That's not particularly good viewing! Imagine them all drunk all the time - now that WOULD be entertaining! Especially the physically and mentally taxing challenges. They could win more booze, thereby keeping the circle going (bigger?). Smacks of old farming methods actually, probably shouldn't even mention it then...


Anyway, hope you all have an amazing weekend. Roll on beer'o'clock!


Spread the love.

Voice Of Rock live radio streaming up!

Exciting! Exciting!

Go here: http://www.voiceofrock.com/ to enjoy all the hard rock and metal to fit your daily requirements. You'll need to sign up / log in, and it is oh so worth it. Forget about the video, VOICE OF ROCK killed the radio jock!

No more Gareth Cliff and pseudo-RnB playlist crapola!

In related news, I am proud to announce the date for this years animal welfare charity event. We have successfully managed to secure Mercury Live for the 5th of Novenber and the evening will feature the very considerable talents of Terminatryx, Cold Hand Chemistry and Witness To Wolves. Watch this space for all the exciting developments!

Ok, bugger you lot, I'm going to listen to Voice Of Rock now...

Spread the love \m/

Suzanna Hoffs vs Darth Vader

She of the Bangles fame and the owner of the sexiest "oooh I'd do things to you" voice in rock n roll. Might have had a hit with a song about Mondays. Not unlike the Boomtown Rats, only with cooler lyrics...

VS

Darth Vader has nothing to do with Mondays. But hopefully the absolute randomness will give you an insight into my current frame of mind...

So we're off to a flyer this week, folks. Well, not really. My eyes are glued shut and my intestines are discussing a COSATU style strike. Why do I do this to myself I hear you bleating. Circumstances, dear gentle reader, circumstances...
Friday night started and ended with a very friendly (no not THAT friendly, bastards) guy feeding me shots whilst I was trying with increasing difficulty to focus on the bands I had gone out to watch. Lots and lots of shots and suddenly I find myself drunk texting (first time I promise). Woke up as if I had been shot in a particulalry bad dream - to confused and confusing replies...
Saturday evening was spent in the opulent surroundings of a friend's bachelor mega-pad for his birthday party. Best party music playlist thing ever, but then we have virtually identical taste in music. Follow up said party with a jaunt, much to my tired and aching disagreement, to a local kiddiejol for some dancing at 3 in the morning, and you end up with a hugely grumpy old bastard standing in the corner and nursing a Coca Cola. I do not dance. Especially when cursed with an unfortunate bout of sobriety. And I despise being the designated driver. I am decidedly UNfun when I have to be and would rather tear my face off.
So, a most pleasant Moanday to you all, may your woes and tribulations evaporate like the Atlantic Seaboard mist...

Now, to find out what my dronk sms was all about...

Spread the luuuurve.

Irreverent Friday the 13th!

So...
Today is supposed to be the day of ghouls and goblins. And chainsaw wielding madmen in ice hockey masks. Pffft! The traffic on the N2 is way more terrifying...
Or local politics...

And in the spirit of all things irreverent, I am going to go a step further and post this post with nothing particularly irreverent in it. No NSFW images or clever quips denouncing the virtues of the virtuous.

And I'm going to put a picture of a wedding cake replete with "the good wife" and "the happy groom" figurines. Not that that has anything to do with today.

Enjoy your Irreverent Friday the 13ths y'all!

Spread the love wedding cake style.

Gut Busters

So there I was, loitering on the corner of Roeland and Buitenkant last night, when my good buddy JDP came zooting up the street under a brand new black helmet and astride his classic vintage Vespa. I didn’t know he had just bought it and didn’t even recognize him. Good laugh seeing him sitting there like a slightly inebriated meerkat as he took off Vespa-rado style…

That was a good gut-buster. This morning was a different story.

But let’s start at the beginning.

After 22 plus years of being the poster child for Stuyvesant Filter, I quit smoking just over a year ago and was astonished to find that I’d picked up a couple of kilos. All of which have apparently manifested themselves in a boep as new as JDP’s Vespa. So I’ve been putting off the ‘7 Minute Abs’ for some time now, and when another friend, Sheik Yerbouti, mentioned that they were starting a new tummy crunch fitness routine, I miraculously decided to match their endeavours. Something along the lines of “How ever many you do, I’ll do as well…”
Now there’s no telling if SY will be telling me the truth and thereby forcing me to do X amount of sit ups every morning, but let’s for the sake of this missive, assume that they do in fact do as many as they claim.
The first thing I had to figure out was where to do these damn ab crunches. Bathroom floor proved disastrous. Even with my legs hooked/dangling over the bath edge. No purchase. My first 20 or so crunches were less “crunch” and more “slide around looking stupid”. Off to the lounge then, where I finally settled on hooking my feet under the couch and could eventually get on with my exercise.
For the love of all things holy! This is going to be a long and arduous journey back to Sixpackville. It was excruciating. Somehow, when I was doing this in the Army, I could do millions (in my mind). I was flat out on my back puffing and wheezing and wondering who was punching me in my boep after a mere 12 or so. I lost count when I was on the verge of blacking out (possibly somewhere around 23) but I had a challenge to meet!
Successfully, if somewhat sneakily, I got there in the end and kinda sideways slithered my way back to the bathroom. The mirror revealed no progress whatsoever, so I soaked under the hot shower and tried not to cry…

Irrelevent Friday

After having gone through a number of other blogs, it has become apparent that in order to become part of the blogging community, one must post at least one picture of Paris What's-her-face...
Irreverent? Irrelevent? Poh-tay-toe, poh-tah-toe...
The problem with having an actual life, as opposed to merely reading about others', is that come the end of the week you're totalled.
After a week full of fun (and some very not so fun) activities, I'm utterly knackered. I feel as if I've been stampeded by Satan's herd of bastard bovine.
Do you think that'll stop me? Not a chance...
Or more accurately, I have planned to relax and take things as chilled as humanly possible this weekend, but know that these well laid plans will all mean shit the minute an opportunity comes up for some revelry.
So, everyone. Have an awesome long weekend. And to ALL the luuuuuuurvely ladies out there, have a very happy and blessed Women's Day! Next stop, Cleavage Day!
...maybe it should have been Irevelrent Friday.
Jeesh, can you tell I'm finished?
Stick a fork in me and spread the love.

Pub Quiz Nights - the new black!

Oh how I both love and loathe Pub Quiz Nights. The loathe part kicks in right about now with Mr Monumental Hangover and f*ckall recollection of the last part of the evening. The love part comes in whilst you’re participating, drinking and hanging out with like-minded people.
Your LMG (Live Music Guide) hosts what has very quickly become a very popular Pub Quiz Evening almost weekly. I felt obliged to enter a team of misfits and the rest is history.
It’s incredible how competitive one can become in such a situation. Although the other teams all include friends or acquaintances, I find myself slinging insults around with much gusto (obviously the booze helps a little in this regard).
We have never won. Which is unfortunate. But that’ll change. As long as there are always questions involving fish…
Anyway, back to the antics of last night. A favourite topic of discussion of mine made its way to the fore once again. Let me tell you I love my friends. The topic was how there is a disparity in the way different women view the act of fellatio. Personally I’m a big fan and can’t understand when met with any sort of resistance to the suggestion. I have always kinda assumed all women totally f*cking dig doing it. Much to my disgust I have met one or 2 that don’t. Which is a world gone topsy-turvy!
Anyway, I’ll let you imagine the rest of the conversation. And thanks to my mates and LMG for a spectacular evening.
Next week, on Monster From The Blog…

Spread the love.

Chicks and the World Cup

I love technology! Not that I understand how it works. The only thing I have managed to glean about the secret inner workings under the hood of my car are the things that have gone wrong.
I don’t care how things work, just that they work. So when Instant Messaging reared its cheeky little head and opened up a whole new world of communication, I was immediately hooked. Consider how awesome it is to chat without having to look interested or look someone in the eye... Many, many conversations have taken place over the ether, some saucy, some simply conversational, some constructive and some really, really funny. Like this last one I HAVE to tell you about.

You see I have this (very successful, charming and talented) friend…
We were comparing his love life history to the World Cup.
The South African chicks he dated were out early, but had some great shots.
The German chick’s defence was impenetrable, but was almost broken through. I almost literally pissed myself when he came up with that analogy…
Anyway, the Italian was constantly on the attack.
The Portuguese only had a short lived, but very successful campaign.
The Austrian also made a brief appearance, but was kicked out in the group stages.
And then there was the English. You know, the “one” that is usually the most hyped up. He had the following to say: Moaned too much, full of expectation, but no longevity and a lot of transfer speculation…
Well, my friend, just remember not to get caught offside with the next one, you’ll be penalized.
Ps It was FAAAAAR too easy to slip in something about “blowing” a vuvuzela, so I left it out…

pss, I also decided to leave out the "Brazilian" comment.

Spread the love.

Meat Market

Dear gentle reader.
I am not single. I spent most of Sunday particularly thankful for that fact...

Let me enlighten you.
One of my best mates came around to help me with my PC on Saturday evening (long story, don't get me started on my PC illiteracy) and it turned into me making him dinner. (He's probably blogging about food poisoning right now.) Anyway, buddy-boy has been single for some time now after a lengthy relationship and is quite keen to go out and meet a suitable young lady on whom to lavish his attentions.

So I stupidly agree to go along and play wingman.

The sense of desperation was un-f*cking-believable! Everybody was eyeing everybody else, sizing them up. I had the unfair advantage of not giving a f*ck, as my far better half was at home keeping the bed warm, so I managed a bit of objectivity. Admittedly I did some boob-staring, but that was strictly so I wouldn't seem out of place, you know...
It seems no-one in this fine establishment had heard of "beggars can't be choosers" for as much ogling as was going on, it was Strike Out City. Everyone wants the hottest chick or guy to make out with even if they certainly aren't. TV has f*cked up our generation's level of expectation.

And let me tell you this place was full. It was so full there was a queue outside (in this cold) of hopefuls. Which makes the phenomenon of being inside a teeming cesspit of desperate bodies and NOT scoring even more perplexing. Bodies are brushing up against each other with the general flow of people to and from the dancefloor and bar, however, barely an acknowledgement of contact between anyone...

Oh and do not get me started on the music either. At the end of the night I had come to the conclusion that all of these singles had been dumped for their pathetic music tastes.

Anyway, I delighted in blotting out the experience with copious amounts of alcohol yesterday, so I am sorely hung over right now - Happy Monster Moanday!

In the (on)line of fire...

In this day and age it has become increasingly difficult to remain private. The government wants you to divulge your every detail every time you buy a loaf of bread. You cannot communicate anymore if you haven't filled out 16 forms in triplicate (in blood) and there are so many conventions that end in "ICA" I've lost count. We blog (erm...), we post, we comment, we even tag ourselves, no matter how em-bare-ass-ing the pics are.
And everyone bitches about it.
Why then, ladies and gentlefolk, do the hordes insist on airing their dirty laundry on social networking sites? Status updates are becoming easy-to-follow threads explaining the hourly evolution of peoples' personal dramas. Pretty soon we're not going to need soapies or private dicks anymore (LIKE Magnum, not FOR Magnum). If you want to know how the argument between person X and person Y is going, simply log onto Spuitpoep and follow both, including their hangers-on's comments and views. Awesome viewing!
Enjoy your Tuesday folks.

Irreverent Fridays

'Irreverent Fridays' - my new global institution, are much like the Friday night action movies on eTV. Fucking annoying, but unavoidable. You know, the ones that rebroadcast all the movies ever made by Chuck Norris, Steven Seagal and Jean Claude Van DAMN I'M FINE!
So in this spirit of irreverence, "screw you guys, I'm going home!"

Thursday Turbo Boost

Thursday always feels like that bridge too far in the week. The penultimate hurdle before all your sins are washed away and all your problems are postponed 'til Monster Moan Monday.
We could all do with a Knight Rider-esque turbo boost to make it over the last stretch and this is possibly why Thursday Night Drinking Binge was invented. Personally I am going to take full advantage of this glorious weather and head down to La Med to play football before rewarding myself with ice cold beer. And lots of it...
Also I would like to direct you to a friend of mine's blog. Check out Tequila Tart on http://tequilatart.blogspot.com/ for a cracking good read. And please don't throw plates at your screen.
Have a Turbo Boost day y'all!

Monday Monster Moan

Urgh! As I'm sure most of you are feeling the same as me, let's celebrate this awful feeling together.
Mondays are for the dogs. Especially when the weekend has been relatively jammed packed with fun activities and the occasional tipple.
Went to watch the historic Big 4 event last night and was less than impressed with the sound, but had a great time watching the show. But it carried on way past my bed time, so I'm still grumpy. Luckily nothing cataclysmic has happened at work - hahaha - like that's gonna happen...
Anyway - hope you all have a fantastic Monster Moanday today.

The BP Oil Spill

My apologies to the tree hugging hippies, but in the spirit of "Irreverent Friday", please enjoy this re-enactment of the tragic BP oil spill.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AAa0gd7ClM&feature=player_embedded

I hereby declare this the first official 'IRREVERENT FRIDAY'...

Can I have a hallelujah!

Voice Of Rock

Howdy y'all.

Please also check out this awesome site dedicated to all things rock and metal. Breaking news, awesome reviews and then some! I believe a live online radio stream is also in the works - can't wait!

Go check it out on http://www.voiceofrock.com/ and give it a good browse.

\m/

Silly hats

Ok so here is where I give away my whereabouts...
What is with the current trend of guys wearing silly Trilby hats? Who on earth thought that was going to look cool? As opposed to making them look like wanktards?
Seems if you want to be taken seriously as an artist in any capacity, the silly hat (and optional jihad scarf) are a fashion must.
So much for not conforming to a stereotype.

Welcome - that's what my grandma said...

Well, well, well. Seems I've decided to join the 21st Century after all. That in no way amounts to a Bowie reference for those of you already speculating about me or my preferences...

I have as yet no idea what I will be writing about in the forthcoming days/weeks/months/years, but as far as inane drivel goes, it should be pretty entertaining, dependent on my state of sobriety.

More than likely the following topics could be on the agenda: The demise of human interaction and proper socialising, music in all shapes and forms and various levels of glory, mutterings about inconsiderate wankers, reports on social events the likes of which you could only dream of being invited to (I just put that in to make me sound far more glamorous than I am), my tool of a pseudo-cousin, amazing pub quiz nights, life in the fast lane, the utter disintegration of grammatical correctness and all other odds and sods regarding general larking about.

Enjoy.

And spread the love in a safe and consensual manner...