My Frame Of Mind At This Particular Juncture

Friday Night Miscellany

Have you ever wondered what Brian Wilson's Pet Sounds might sound like if a bunch of bedroom electro-geeks got their hands on it? Wonder no more..............

For anyone planning on getting all apoplectic, I wouldn't bother. They don't mean no harm..............

The power went out tonight, just as I was walking up the road to the house. The big giveaway was seeing the lights in Iceland and Lidl go out simultaneously. Some bloke in an Iron Maiden T-shirt came breenging towards me further up the road and informed me that "the whole area is out", as if all contact with the outside world had been lost. The poor sod is probably still hiding in the bushes outside the Firhill Complex, waiting for law and order to be restored.................

I wasn't long in when the lady from upstairs, along with her daughter, came down and asked about the power failure. I let slip that my phone was working, so she asked to come in and use mine to contact her husband. I suspect hers probably was working, it's just that she maybe thought it wouldn't be due to the outage. Anyway, there's me handing over my pre-historic handset, worrying about the mess my house was in, feeling awkward...........

The phone rang out on the number they had called, but about ten minutes later, I was fielding a call from the husband, explaining what had happened. All too eventful if you ask me..............

It was all a bit of a fucker to be honest, I couldn't wash the dishes or wash any clothing, so I decided to lie on the couch and wait for them to switch the power back on. Seemed to be the thing to do.............

I ought to do it more often........................

FUCK!

Beaten by the Huns again

If you saw it on the telly tonight, you may be able to give me a rundown on what should or shouldn't have gone our way at the hands of the masonic bastard referee. I was too busy laughing at Nacho Novo and Kirk Clubfoot, between roaring through choruses of 'King Billy Was A Poof' and 'Mary Fae Maryhill'

Our time is coming, believe it!!

Rule Britannia my fucking arse!

Big Breests Are Great!

...........Or so proclaimeth the legend scrawled upon the inside of the door to a refuse container situated outside a refurbished pub on North Street. This area is now officially 'Bukowski Alley', what with Chinaski's bar, and then 'The Ritz' slowly transforming into 'Black Sparrow' (Bukowski's publisher). Now, as far as I can tell from his books and poetry, Bukowski was a leg man, but nonetheless, it's all a bit spooky. Looks like the work of a denizen of the east, someone from the land of saltnsauce if I'm not mistaken....................

Whatever, it needed saying and I'm eternally grateful for it's presence.

Glasgow Diamonds American Football team make a video in which they prove for once and all that white men can rap (but they sure as hell can't fucking dance, not these ones anyway....) I know we don't get much sunshine up here in Glasgow, but surely they could have waited for a slightly brighter day to shoot this......No? The tash on the singer is a thing of great beauty and wonder though. I shall grow one just like it!

Almost Ready.............

Sorry about the absence, I've been rather occupied of late. Or is that just too fucking lazy to post? A bit of both maybe............................. Anyway, I'll be back soon, regaling you all with more tales of the expected. Hold on tight! Heroes & Villains by The Beach Boys. There are a couple of versions of this song floating around on general release, but this isn't one of them. It's at least two, if not more.................... I found it on an old tape of Smile bootleg material I made about a hundred years ago. I think I cobbled it together using the edit facility on a now deceased Sony minidisc. Let's just say that the 'acid casualty doo-wop' feel has been ramped up to eleven on this one..................... ;)

Test Card

Normal service will be resumed soon. Cheers!

Fleeting Thoughts

Each week there seems to be a new headline in either the Daily Mail or the Daily Express, proclaiming the miraculous qualities of everyday items like tomatoes, to prevent Cancer. Delve further and you will find a plethora of oddball alternative cures and panaceas for every ailment under the sun. With this in mind, not to mention the fair few bob I might earn from endorsing various spurious products, I have compiled a list of items that may, or may not have been scientifically tested, and may, or may not have curative properties.

Goat semen to cure piles

Monkey weewee to cure acne

Domestos to cure nosebleeds

A length of two by four across the head to cure migraines

A boot in the nuts to cure groin strain

60 Club King Size per day to cure Emphysema

Paracetemol to cure every ailment known to man...........

.....................and now that you're all in rude health and raring to go...

My local branch of Lidl is a quite wonderful place you know. Where else can you get heather plants for 39p, cans of nice German beer for 69p and footwear in any size but the one you require? That said, it's the folks who shop there that are the real reason I go. Don't be fooled by the 'poverty stricken' schtick I put on, I'm only in there for the banter. In reality, I live off Marks & Spencer ready meals and sip the finest wines and spirits.

Case in point. I'm standing in the queue sometime last week and I overhear a rather rough looking lady proclaim to her friend that she had "bought wan uv they laptops aff wee Davie".

Alas, said device was something of a disappointment to her.

"Ah canny get intae it though" she stated, "It keeps askin' fur a password........."

I'd like to make an appeal at this juncture. I'd like to ask of anyone who as had their laptop pc stolen in the past few months, to please get in touch with me, so I can pass on the code to the poor woman. I believe it was about fifty notes she paid for it. You know how much cheap voddie and cider you can buy for that?

Or maybe she used fake notes..................

This leads me to Lidl incident No2. The guy behind me in the queue the other day handed over a £20 note for his shopping. I was still packing my stuff away when the girl at the check out suspected something was amiss. The note felt 'wrong' and she called a colleague. Her colleague checked for a water mark and confirmed that indeed, the note was as bent as a thirteen pound note bearing an image depicting Jimmy Saville in frenzied sexual congress with an ostrich on one side. The chap didn't put up much of a protest, simply muttering something about the bookies he'd just been to, swearing that he'd take it back and give them a piece of his mind. I assumed he had meant the local Willie Hill, but obviously not,as he went off in the opposite direction, no doubt in an attempt to pass the fucker off at the mini-market up the road. The cheeky wee scamp.............

One last thing. For anyone who thought there was a chance of the world ending on Wednesday , have you ever considered idiocy as a career? You've actually got another fortnight or so to go before the black holes come to get you, they were only switching the fucker on to see if everything worked. Full scale proton collisions don't get underway for a wee while yet..........

Mind you, if you keep your head under the covers and don't expose any body parts, you'll be perfectly safe......................

Monster Mash - Bonzo Dog Band: Taken from the 'Tadpoles' album, available on the 'Cornology' set. Many of the songs from this album were aired on the ground breaking childrens tv show 'Do Not Adjust Your Set', a predecessor to Monty Python's Flying Circus.

Things Are Not Going To Plan

I'm afraid you'll have to be on the look out for my posts in the next week or so, they may be a tad infrequent. Made the rather silly mistake of switching off my pc at the mains while it was still on and suddenly the keyboard and mouse are fucked. It should be sorted soon, but not soon enough, if you know what I mean....................

Anyway, check Tigers At The Tapes for last weekends thrilling speedway coverage, and the new photo blog too.

Calling All Armchair Despots!

When you do what I do for a living, the mind tends to wander off in search of improved mental stimulation. Of course, this generally involves internet abuse, scribbling out food shopping lists and doodling on notepads. Today however, I got to thinking about what might happen if we were to declare our own countries.

Think of the little part of the world you live in and imagine what you would do with it if it were to gain independence. My thoughts on the subject are as follows..............

The state would be named 'The Peoples Republic of Maryhill'. Initially I would run the state from the burnt out ruins of the Community Central Halls, as a symbolic gesture, before re-locating to the rather comfier local housing association offices until the mess made by my bloody coup was cleared up. I would then elect a polit-bureau consisting entirely of family members, friends and whatever local mental cases join my cause. The economy would be based on three nationalised industries. Fast food, off licenses and a scratch card lottery with bogus prizes. Plans to invade Springburn, Hillhead and Possilpark would be formulated in due course.

Sounds like paradise!

Ok, your turn now. I need some allies........................ ;)

Lord Snooty's Giant Poisoned Electric Head

The Bonzo Dog Band - My Pink Half Of The Drainpipe Every time I have to go across to the other office to pick up filing, I'm reminded of the above song. Office life has a habit of turning even the nicest and most amusing people into brain buggering bores, but the group of halfwits I spent two hours in the company of today make the more annoying folk I normally work with seem quite witty, erudite and fascinating in comparison. Quite a feat really........... Where do these people come from? These blank eyed monsters with their tales of suburban terror. Their miserable holiday snaps, banal chatter about what they had for dinner last night, about what their boyfriends do for a living, about how they went to Miami on holiday and DID FUCK ALL!!!!!..................... Apart from go clubbing and shopping.......... Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggg!!!!!!! Pass me the white hot needles, I feel a migraine coming on............ Why bother even leaving East Kilbride? September is 'Bonzo Dog Band Month' by the way..............

Killer Cups

For those who enjoyed what I did with my Seven Days blog, I've just published the first in a series of new photo diaries. They will focus almost entirely upon nature (Flora, Fauna, the odd bit of sky), rather than the random guerrilla photography of Seven Days. It's still the same format of one shot per day, but each season will be a new blog.

The first installment is called Seasons1 - Autumn

In other news, I have just ripped a hole in one of my fingers. I was foolishly attempting to dry out a coffee mug when the handle snapped off rather suddenly. As a result, my middle finger caught the brunt of the sharp edges of broken china and now sports a rather fetching gouge. Everything seems to be ok, it won't require stitches, but I'm keeping an eye on the other similar mug I have, lest it should make a similar attempt at dismemberment. Anyway, no more details, principally for the benefit of my more squeamish readers....................

Startled heron in flight. If I'd had the right mode selected on the camera, this would have been an amazing shot.