Monday, 31 December 2007
Monday, 17 December 2007
I know I published this picture of successful Hull beat exports The Hullaballoos on the blog before, but the guy on the right is still great value. There are some great looks - I'm thinking Bowie, Roxy and the Clash here - and others (white shirts, pudding bowl mullets, homo-erotic bank clerks) that just don't cut it. Great pic tho'.
Saturday, 15 December 2007
Thursday, 13 December 2007
Tuesday, 11 December 2007
Thursday, 6 December 2007
What the blue blazes has happened to Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, of the amazing Grinderman and majestic film soundtracks, like the Proposition and the new one TAOJJBTCRF? I know the music harks back to Xavier Herbert era Oz, but Cavey lives in Brighton. There's plenty of barbers, so why the cross between John Hughes and John Milton? As for Ellis, he seems to have turned into a cross between Rip van Winkle and Robert Crumb's hairy cartoon. Great sweeping elegaic music however.
Favourite conversation: A lad on the Grimsby Barton train going through all 27 of the records his boss had given him at work: "Gabba, gabba, grime, evolution, evolution, gabba, grime, gabba" like a demented McCririck. Gabba, gabba, hey hey.
Monday, 3 December 2007
Sunday, 2 December 2007
Tuesday, 27 November 2007
Monday, 19 November 2007
Thursday, 15 November 2007
As Thursday's go, this one is pretty surreal. Off to see a member of the Catholic clergy in Scunthorpe to discuss the bizarre and surreal 'initiation' I have to go through before I get married to Dee (I'm hoping for some dastardly adventure in the Indian foothills). And then we return home for the surreal antics of the Mighty Boosh. At the moment I keep thinking of the Priest And The Beast episode from the last series. I'm hoping the meeting with the Priest doesn't end with a crazy monster made of Beta Max video tape hot-tailing me back to BoH.
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Cleaners caught Mr Stewart simulating sex with a bikeA man caught trying to have sex with his bicycle has been sentenced to three years on probation.
Robert Stewart, 51, admitted a sexually aggravated breach of the peace by conducting himself in a disorderly manner and simulating sex.
Sheriff Colin Miller also placed Stewart on the Sex Offenders Register for three years.
Mr Stewart was caught in the act with his bicycle by cleaners in his bedroom at the Aberley House Hostel in Ayr.
Gail Davidson, prosecuting, told Ayr Sheriff Court: "They knocked on the door several times and there was no reply.
"They used a master key to unlock the door and they then observed the accused wearing only a white t-shirt, naked from the waist down.
"The accused was holding the bike and moving his hips back and forth as if to simulate sex."
Both cleaners, who were "extremely shocked", told the hostel manager who called police.
Sheriff Colin Miller told Stewart: "In almost four decades in the law I thought I had come across every perversion known to mankind, but this is a new one on me. I have never heard of a 'cycle-sexualist'."
Stewart had denied the offence, claiming it was caused by a misunderstanding after he had too much to drink.
The bachelor had been living in the hostel since October 2006 after moving from his council house in Girvan. He now lives in Ayr (is this some tyre-related joke at the end)
Monday, 12 November 2007
At the pub they are denied admission by the landlord until an effigy of the ape is hurled over the roof, only then can they enter to hear the famous poem written for the occasion by Sleaford resident Jeff Challoner. The Oasby Morris Baboon Dancers will perform and there will be music and verse, along with a collection for Children In Need. Paul Kennedy of Oasby said: “There is quite a lot going on in the pub after the march and it is a cracking night for a very good cause.”
Saturday, 10 November 2007
Sunday, 4 November 2007
Saturday, 3 November 2007
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
Off to see the Super Furries at the sumptuous, elegant Leeds Town Hall (and oh to see Cian Ciaran making some pounding Joey Beltram Hardfloor-esque tune out of the giant pipe organ behind the stage). Having first seen the Furries in 1996, and traipsing off down Ealing High Road to buy Hometown Unicorn, I've grown up with the Welsh oddballs, seen them adopt Golden Retriever suits and Manson beards, and become part of the alt-furniture. Gruff Rhys sidles up to the side of the stage to watch support Jim Noir (who has the look of the Hitcher from Gilliam's Fear And Loathing) wearing a bobble hat n' beard combo. That's good 30s. The band delivered their most trad set yet, a kind of Spanish and bee-bop flavoured prog and freak out melee, with carrots and helmets obviously. And Slow Life, watched by an overwhelmed Noir mere feet from us in a kind of "I'm never gonna do anything as good as this, ever, no way", cooked with gas.
Monday, 29 October 2007
Friday, 26 October 2007
Thursday, 25 October 2007
Wednesday, 24 October 2007
Monday, 22 October 2007
Sunday, 21 October 2007
Saturday, 20 October 2007
Friday, 12 October 2007
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
The moment when Loz met Wyatt. The eagle-eyed amongst you woill notice that he signs the name Wyatt in the form of a girl's body, the W doing most of the work. This signature obviously necessitates the need for a giant chequebook, and reminds me of Jackie Treehorn in the Big Lebowski. As I've said before, it's nice when your hero is 61, wears a bodywarmer and tugs on one of those fag replacement jobbies. Wyatt, I salute you...
On the way back from meeting my idol, I was brought down to earth by this 20-something pipe smoker, sat with his equally awful pipe-smoking parents on the town square. I got his picture by pretending to "work for pipe smokers weekly". He obliged, rather than questioning the sustainability of a weekly pipe magazine.
Monday, 8 October 2007
Thursday, 4 October 2007
Friday, 21 September 2007
Sunday, 16 September 2007
Friday, 14 September 2007
It's taken 10 months, four failed house sales, one police helicopter, several tip trips, hundreds of shouty conversations with smooth-talking, potty-mouthed estate agents and jack-shit solicitors, but Dee's house has finally sold. Meaning we can move into this little beauty on the left next week. I'll miss my new storage buddies, comparing flood damage, moustaches and waterproofs, but think we're ready to start this incredibly exciting new chapter in our lives.