Wednesday, April 3, 2013


Used without permission.

Well, well, well. If it isn't me, back on my virtual soapbox, about to blow a load in your ever eager earholes.
How was your long weekend? Religious or not, I hope your Easter experience was a worthwhile one and that you  got to spend it surrounded by loved ones.

Let me see, what did I get up to. Oh yes, let's start at the start.

The Hot Girlfriend and I spent most of the bleak, stormy weekend exactly  where we belong - in bed, happily watching a variety of rubbish on TV. Much like Comrade cadre Walter, Oliver and Nelson, I can now also be considered a snuggle veteran. See how important spelling is, kids?

Saturday heralded the Big Move, in which Rose Thorn and Commander Conker relocated their lives to the sunny suburb of Sunningdale. There was much huffing and puffing. There was the occasional swear word. Eventually we trundled up to their new address in "Everything-looks-the-same-land" only to find that the previous tenants weren't there. Not only had these shining fucking examples of human beings ignored the appointment, they'd apparently turned off their cell phones as well. A cursory glance through the windows revealed that they hadn't as much as placed a plate in a box either. See what happens when you live in Tableau Voi for too long?

Anyway, after a long ass wait, which included LordDoom sprinting down the road like a prize filly after a wayward white plastic carrier bag borne on the not so subtle wind (and having me yelling with glee "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!"), these pillocks pitched up and proceeded to place their entire household on the front lawn. This took some time. It then occurred to these fucking super geniuses that they had, in fact, not worked out what to do with all their possessions after this. Cue them stashing all their belongings in the garage. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. On the balance of things, it was probably cry, taking into consideration the vast quantities of dog pooh they left behind...
Anyway, pizzas and beer healed it all and soon the love birds were in their new nest.

Moving swiftly along to Easter Sunday. It has become tradition for Slappy to have the entire world over to her place for bunny pie on Easter Sunday. Much to my wide-eyed disappointment, it turns out it isn't actual rabbit pie, but merely chicken pie with a rabbit shaped blob of pastry stuck on top. Just goes to show - everything tastes like chicken... Much tequila and wine was enjoyed. Aaah, blissful Sunday afternoons...

Duly fuelled, The Hot Girlfriend, Tarty Farty Tequila Party and I descended on Blake's for an old (and I do mean old) friend's 40th birthday celebration. So I go and order a round of 3 beers. The barman couldn't understand my forlorn confusion when - after handing him my entire month's salary - he didn't give me any change. Fuck that place. It's clearly designed for the type of person who wants to prove what a pop-up collar poephol they are by impressing the "cherries" while they get conned out of their mortgage. Stupid me, I went back and did it again. Must have been the booze...

Then... Then! Then, I had the dubious pleasure of attending a music conference. I hate any form of conference at the best of times. (I once almost ruined my entire faculty by purposely sabotaging my own presentation at a Minerals Whatever Conference. People were not impressed. I told them I didn't want to go.) Anyway, back to the self important, wankfest I was at. On face value, it is always a good thing when people get together to discuss the problems inherent in a struggling industry with the view of postulating viable solutions. In real life, it is always a total shit show when the majority of these people are not major stake-holders, are too far up their own arses to be aware of the real problems, and collectively have the problem solving ability of the Speaker Of Parliament. Not to mention the so-called "musicians" who do nothing except bleat on about government not doing enough to help them, the industry not doing enough to help them, and making everything about how the white man is the devil. I might add that these people do not play instruments either. Unless a MacBook Pro is an instrument. Not ALL participants in this 2 day fisting spectacular were like that, mind you. I heard some very erudite and learned speakers and I especially enjoyed the presentation given by the people who - incidentally - made the first Fields Of The Nephilim music video. So no real reason to rant, I suppose.

Ok, I'm done. Stick a fork in me...

NGDG: Well, there goes teaching EFL in Korea as an option.

Spread The Love. Practice Makes Perfect.

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