Street life

I was in Nottingham today going to see my Grandma, and to waste some time I went to Lee Rosy's to see if the FME and DHK approved waitress was as hott as I was led to believe.

Unfortunately as I got there before 10am, it was shut and I felt it would have been rude to stare through the window so just glanced in and saw a dark-haired girl. I had no idea if she was hott, but the place did look very nice.

And all the time I was walking around I knew I was in Nottingham. Which sounds silly, but everyone else says all high streets are the same due to homogenised shops and health 'n' safety* causing anything original to be removed.

But even if Selectadisc closed**, and the Brian Clough statue was removed I'd know exactly where I was. And if I was dumped in York, Mansfield, Manchester, Swinging London or Scarborough I would know immediately where I was. And then run towards the Police Station to inform them I had been kidnapped.

Because the high street is more than the shops that it contains. It's the buildings that they're in, with the clocks that have been outside them for ages. It's the little hill you have to go up before seeing that Lee Rosy's is shut. It's the little alleyways and snickets you know you can cut through before you get to Cube hairdressers. It's that they're not all set in blocks like in America (or at least, what I think of America - please inform me if I'm wrong former colonialists!). It's the trams in Manchester going towards Altringham.

Although the fact that they all seem to have big wheels is very silly.

* The a and n were removed in case a kid fell and bumped their head on them

** Which it is. I bought my Olivia Tremor Control album there, along with the cool see through Sleater-Kinney single (I think it was You're No Rock And Roll Fun). Bye bye Selectadisc, you were a girl record store

Witness the fitness

As befits someone who recently got married I have let myself go a bit.  Whereas I was previously a slim, weak man with a bit of a pot belly I am now a slim, weak man with a bit of a pot belly and a beard.  This obviously makes a huge difference to my lifestyle, which consists of sitting around playing videogames and eating chicken goujons with reggae reggae sauce.

I think my body works fine from the waist down as I walk to work (excluding the 25 minute train I catch in between walking to and from the stations) and don't get out of breath.  Sometimes I do get a little sweaty, but that's mostly due to me wearing a big coat in anticipation of cold weather & the Sun deciding to boil me slightly.

No, it's always been my arms & belly that require the most work.  My belly seems to attract all the spare weight I have, but my arms get thinner and thinner in comparison.

So I got the Wii Fit board out of storage and decided to give it a go.  After being gently chided for not going on it for over 100 days I started playing the put-the-balls-in-the-holes game as a warm up.

Then I did some squat thrusts which weren't too bad, so I decided to do some jacknifes to work on my belly.  Easy peasy.  At least for the first few jacks, then for some weird reason my lardy belly thought that it didn't like doing this & it started to hurt.  Lots.  The worst thing was that the gym trainer lady was late for the session due to sleeping in too late and seemed to be taking it out on me.  "Keep at it.  I may be hungover, but seeing you in pain is making me feel lots better."

I hate that woman.  She never cuts you any slack.  Much like a trainer in a real gym.

I decided to finish with a press up session.  Now I really hate the Wii Fit press ups.  Not only do they make you do it really slowly, but they also make you move onto one arm in an attempt to prolong the agony.  So I gave up.

The woman gave me some grief, but I didn't really care as I could see her do the press ups and noticed that her top was really scary.  You could see her cleavage, but it was perfectly covered by her top.  Not like it was a lycra top, but more like it was painted over like those women they occasionally have in Sports Illustrated issues.

The gym lady scares me.  I would choose the man, but he is also scarier and I worry about what I will see when I do the squat thrusts.

Shake baby shake

I need a car.  Actually scratch that, I need a method of transportation that's cheap and doesn't require two weeks of planning before I can use it.  Which essentially means a car.

It doesn't matter that I haven't been behind a wheel since I passed my test* in 2002, a car would be really useful.  It would mean that I wouldn't have to get a first class ticket to travel down at 7am to see my Grandma** as there were no cheaper tickets that would get me there before 12.

We could also go and visit Freya's relatives who live too far away for us to decide to see at a short notice and therefore hardly see as much as she would like.  The last time we saw her Father & Step-Mother was at our wedding and nine months*** is too long to have not seen your parents.

I'd quite look forward to being able to drive around Yorkshire and see places that don't have a train station near them.  I hear there's some rather nice village pubs nearby and as I'm (sob) nearly 30 I reckon I should be going towards that direction.

Also going by car would remove the most hateful thing about getting public transport.  Which is the public.  They are such whining, childish hatemongerers .  Honestly, while I've not been blogging I've been storing up anecdotes about the idiotic things my fellow commuters have done.  And the really annoying thing is I'm sure I've done exactly the same thing to them.

* Other than when I revved my Mum's car so that my Dad's car got jump started.

** Although I'm actually interested in seeing how good first class is.

*** Erk.  I've been married for nine months.  We've already lasted longer than Peaches Geldof.  In your face!

Putting second in perspective

Right, I realise I haven't really blogged on here.  And I haven't filled in the 'about' sections that I appear to have.

But humour me for a moment.  I'm trying to work out if what I've written makes sense.

Momopeche twittered 'crap, i have to write my SXSW bio and have no idea to write it in first person or third'.  My reply was 'He always prefers to write in the second person'.

Does this make sense from any viewpoint?  I'm really unsure if it does or not.

This is a test

It appears to be working.  Expect more fun tomorrow!

Tilly and the Wall haiku

Slow Club:



You thought you were bad
in fact you were rather good
but crap whistlers

Tilly and the wall:



One of you can't sing
can't play bass but can tap dance
you'll go a long way

Kenickie - 10 years gone

I realise it's been ten years, but I still miss them. Kenickie are my favourite band ever. They just sang with feeling. And a mackem accent.

I've liked bands before and since, but I've never felt the same joy when I hear any other band. Plus they sounded like they were having fun too.

They split just as I started Uni at Loughborough and I could've seen them on their final tour at Rock City, but I never found anyone to go with. It's something I regret to this day. Although perhaps seeing them in their dying throes will have soured my memory of them.

I even liked how their first unofficial mailing list was one sent out by someone (Lee?) who bcc'd everyone in so you got a load of messages in one go.

The best bit is I have no idea where I started to like Kenickie from. It might have been C-Monster, who mentioned it in his e-mail about AP. Or J Nash when I asked him about music he liked. Or maybe it was when I got a promo leaflet through the post.

So thanks for everything Johnny X (anything to do with http://www.whoisjohnny-x.com/ ), Emmy-Kate Montrose (writer of the Best Kenickie Song ever), Lauren Laverne (who should just stick to radio rather than sorting out Twiggy's frocks) and Marie du Santiago (the one I fancied, sorry Marie).

I did actually see Kenickie live twice, both times were at Reading Festival. Rather surprisingly BFBS played part of their 1996EDIT: 1997** set on their radio station. I managed to record it onto tape. Now I have converted it into mp3s* for everyone to enjoy. If anyone knows of any reason why these shouldn't be on here, let me know.

Cheers.

• The whole gig as a .rar file


• 01 - Dodgy BFBS Intro


• 02 - How I Was Made


• 03 - I Never Complain


• 04 - Millionaire Sweeper


• 05 - I Would Fix You


• 06 - Classy


• 07 - People We Want


• 08 - PVC


• 09 - In Your Car

* Via Minidisc, then audacity.
** I knew I went to Reading 1998 as this was before I went to Uni, but I could have sworn I missed the one before that. However, I am wrong. Simon, the person Simon was speaking to, and the First Matt were right. Everyone must now change the ID3 tags in the MP3s accordingly.

Haiku Gig Review

Rose from The Pipettes
She wanted to dance/hand jive
Was stuck by keyboard



Film School were loud
And also repetitive
They were also loud



British Sea Power
Very good foliage but
Need Turtle Power

Communication Prbloms

Nice to see the Guardian pays attention to its own words...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2008/oct/07/little.britain

Don't hold your breath for a British series called The Mentalist.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/mediamonkeyblog/2008/oct/03/channelfive.television

Channel Five's new US import The Mentalist

Not 'Arf

The other I've noticed as I've got older is that my belly button fluff has stopped being dark, and is now white cotton. I have no logical reason for this, other than my belly button is racist. I apologise for it's actions.

Premature Awake-ation

I'm ill. As usual it's just a really bad cold/sore throat that has made me spend this weekend not doing a lot and falling asleep during the day. Now, I hate falling asleep during the day as I just feel it's a total waste of the day. Although considering I usually spend the weekend on the PC or the Wii, it's not that much more of a waste. Still, I consider falling asleep during the day to be very much an old man's game and always shy away from it.



This didn't used to matter as I would always spend the weekends waking up at around 11am. But recently I've been waking up around the same times I do to go to work, which is 6.15am. And my body can't take it.

I have a few reasons for this. One is that our bedroom curtains are feeble, and let the light in at the earliest opportunity. I spent eight years living in Germany where they use heavy duty blinds and you wouldn't have a clue what time it was when you woke up. So you went back to sleep.

Also, next door have a really screamy kid. We have thin walls. This combination results in an alarm that is worse than the Meatballs alarm ringtone I made. And unfortunately, Sophie doesn't have a snooze button.

The other thing is, by noticing, this I've realised I'm getting old. I'm at ease with it though as sleeping appears to be the only problem I have with it.

Hair in my nose? When you graze your nostril and feel an unusually long hair, it feels great to pull it out. Plus it's stopped me from picking my nose so much as this is more fun.

Going bald? Yeah I could do without touching places where my hair was and finding nothing there, but it happens. Plus I'm starting to get Mr. Fantastic style grey side bit, which I reckon look alright.

A large belly? That seems to have stopped since I quit booze. Walking to the train station also helps.

But waking up before seven on a weekend? That's just wrong. Going to sleep when you could be watching Hole in the Wall? What a waste of time!

P.S. I realise this blog has made little to no sense. But I point you to my first sentence. I'm ill. Do you people not have any compassion?

Delivery Error

The great thing about the postal service (not the band, who are good, but won't help my argument) is that you pay some money and they will send your parcel anywhere. Now if you want it sending to the other side of the world then it will cost more & if you want it arriving quicker it will also cost more. However, I feel that these are sound reasons to pay more.



Now, it's coming up to my Lovely Wife's birthday and I wish to buy her something nice. And therefore I have found something that is perfect for her*. Except there's one problem: The company don't deliver to the UK.

I'm not asking for you to charge the same amount that you do for American deliveries. I'm not even asking to be treated as a Canadian. Even if you said "It will cost an extra twenty quid to send" I wouldn't mind. At least I'd have the choice to say no.

So either I have to find something else that Freya would like or I could ask the people I know who live in America, see if they will allow me to get it sent to their house and then ask them to send it on. Which is people who read this blog pretty much. So please people of America (and Canadia), help a loving husband out? Obviously all fees will be reimbursed and if you need some English sweets sending over I will be happy to help.

The other thing is: Does a website already provide this service? Because I reckon there could be a gap in the market for this. I'm going to give Duncan Bannatyne a ring and see if he's in. If not, I'll probably get his answering machine.

* I'm unable to say what as she'll no doubt pick this as the one time to read my blog this year. I love you Freya!

Safe sex doesn't mean no sex

OK. I understand the reasoning behind condoms. They prevent sexually transmitted diseases, they help prevent you getting someone pregnant and they can be used as a really awful balloon. So if a main reason is to stop reproduction why are my condoms multiplying?

I don't mean condoms of the winky-guard type, but the Wiimote condoms that stop you scratching your table whilst playing Wii Sports (and thus requiring the services of a French polisher). I bought my Wii before all Wiimotes came with these protectors, so e-mailed Ninty asking for them to send me two.

I received some in February. Then another pair in March. And another pair in June (in fact whilst we were on honeymoon). Now, I sent the extra ones back to Codestorm (the Ninty Service Center bods) and didn't hear back from them.

Until today, obv. When I recieved another pair. This time I have had to resort to the Sternly Worded (But With Some Humour To Show I'm Not A Massive Moaner) E-mail. Hopefully I can go another three months without hearing about them.

Freya was thinking I could sell them on ebay, but as everyone is entitled to some Wii condoms for free I doubt I'd get much money for them. However, Matt Biebly did send me two copies of Deathray Issue One by accident so I will hoarding them. Or perhaps I could give them to the Super Lehmann Brothers so they can clear their massive debts. I am a philanthropist after all.

Anyway ignore all that, and watch this. I promise it's better than Maude:

Women in politics

I do like how the American presidential race is now sexist and racist.  Of course the seventies were much more enlightened.  As my following clip will prove.



The best thing about it is that they spend 30 seconds singing about why women are great.  And then the only thing they have for the star is "And then there's Maude" for about 15 seconds.  Freya thinks it's ironical, but I'm certain irony was discovered in the mid 80s when I started to talk.

Still alive. Still unable to write.

So I'm not dead.  I'm just rather busy with work and don't have time thinking of witty stuff to say.  Not that that hasn't stopped me before, natch.

I do have some stuff to write about though.  I'm going to talk about annoying things about gigs, annoying things about commuting on the train and annoying things about having crap skin.  At least one of those will contain a half-decent joke, all will contain observations that most bloggers have mentioned before.  However I GUARANTEE mine will have more self-deprecating references than any of my rivals!

The latest issue of Deathray says that there are writing jobs available.  This means that I start to wonder about how life would be if I did become a writer rather than an accountant.  And you know what?  I'd still be an accountant, it just would have taken me an extra year to qualify after I wasted twelve months doing something I'm crap at.  Well, not terribly good at.

Still part of me wishes I did have some non office based job.  Like working at a magazine.  In an office.  Or at least something where I can have fun through other methods rather than making slightly sarcastic comments.

I did like my comment in the team meeting though where H* was talking about our big boss.
"He's cool though - he likes Scouting for Girls."
"Yeah.  But he meant it as an activity."

I realise that this is another joke that loads of bloggers have made.  But did they make it in a work based environment? DID THEY? Man, I'm tired.

* Using the initials to avoid libel, unfortunately I do not work with H from Steps.

"high pitched dick"

In Ocean's poor sports game Beach Volley there was one reason to play it. Ignoring the fact that the only way to score was to jam your player in the top right corner and then hit your spike when he jumped off the screen, we kept playing purely to hear the introductions to each country.

They were fairly awful voice samples of the respective countries accents, but they had a charm that made Ash & I giggle. They soon became catchphrases, along with the weird visual images of the wrong handed volleyballer on the title screen.

The first country had the best sample of the game though. To be said in a high pitched Dick Van Dyke in Poppins accent:

"Welcome to Lahndahn."

However the reality isn't so charming.

Moving

Seeing how blogger doesn't have as good iPhone functionality as Wordpress I have moved from (No! But Yes!) blogger to Wordpress. The new page can be found here:

http://uppi17.wordpress.com

Don't expect anything new though. I've not got that far in my new plan.

Amusing Wedding Story Number 3

So it's time for the third Amusing Wedding Story. But first the Slightly Upsetting Wedding Story.



My Uncle has become a bit of a ladies man since getting a divorce and has had about three different lady friends since I proposed to

Freya. Therefore we thought it would be best that he didn't bring a date and instead should attend with his son.

Obviously this spoilt his attempts at getting his end away and he asked us one week before the wedding if his Schtup-Partner could come along. We said no using the short notice as an excuse.

So he got upset and left shortly after the ceremony. The miserable get.

However no need for this to spoil the wedding as Amusing Stories beat Mildly Upsetting Stories 3-1!

We invited my Mum's cousin Glynis to the wedding, along with her husband Frank. Frank's a bit of a bizarre person at the best of times and always says something weird when you see him.

My brother was chatting to him and used one of Frank's old catchphrases "Cut the rug". It took a while for Frank to recognise it, but instead of just laughing he decided to lightly stroke down Tom's arm.

This had now made the light stroke down the arm one of mine and Freya's favourite actions along with the Catpoo (don't ask) and the Snuggle.

Oh and it turns out that Frank and my Mother In Law went to the same school. Frank was the naughty kid who kept getting thrown out of assembly. My Mother In Law wanted to be him*.

Frank is on the wedding photos and is the guy with the Colonel Sanders goatee.

* Due to me writing this on my iPhone this originally said 'wanted to be jim'.

Amusing Wedding Story Number Two

As listeners to the Adam & Joe show on BBC Radio Six will know, one of their catchphrases is "I'm going to have a party Pom Pom, it's going to be a Poo Poo Party Pom Pom". Myself and Freya have been using it for a while and have been finding it rather amusing.

We decided to write our own wedding vows to make it memorable and also for me to finally have something to do regarding the wedding. However, I soon noticed that this meant I would have to write something that was meaningful and, as readers of this blog have found out, my writing is totally rubbish.

Luckily I had an afternoon to go to my dentist (star of the Awful Wedding Story - coming soon!) and spent a nice sunny May day in Harrogate's Valley Gardens racking my brains of good vow words. Eventually I had something figured out. It didn't sound cheesy, it didn't sound over the top, it sounded exactly how I felt about Freya.

And then I added a line asking if Freya wanted a Poo Poo Party Pom Pom?



I managed to memorise the vow, but thought I'd best take the piece of paper I'd written on along in case I had an attack of brain nerves.

On the day of the wedding I had to meet the registrar and state that I was marrying Freya for the right reasons and other official things. Then she asked if I had my vows. I said I did and reluctantly handed over the paper. The registrar seemed a very officious person and didn't seem like someone who would appreciate the humour in my words. Luckily my brother did and started giggling uncontrollably. Which then started me off. Which made the registrar more po-faced.

Luckily she decided that we were ok to get married (I suspect she realised that Freya already knew I was an idiot but still liked me) and the ceremony went ahead without any problems. Well, apart from the other two Amusing Wedding Stories and the Awful Wedding Story.

Amusing Wedding Story Number One

I got married a few weeks back. It was very good. I kept smiling all the way through it, which is very unlike me. The whole thing went smoothly and we both enjoyed ourselves so much.

However:



We were having our First Official Dancey-Dance as a married couple to Nick Cave's Breathless. To be honest we were rather stilted in our movements, but it was very sweet as we were both singing to each other. We were staring into each other eyes when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was my new Father and Step Mother in law. We were confused. They told us that they were leaving and wanted to thank us for a great evening. Errm, ok, but couldn't you have told us this in about one minute and fifteen seconds?

What made it even stranger was that they then spent about ten minutes saying goodbye to everyone else! Apparently my cousin Kate told my brother/best man Tom to go over and stop them, but my SMIL just gave him a massive hug and he was so speechless he couldn't do anything.

I reckon that they were both upstairs when we said it was going to be our first dance and they thought we had been on the dancefloor for a while. Still you'd have thought they could've waited. Ah well.

At the time I was baffled by it, but now it has morphed into Amusing Wedding Story Number One. I think there are two more Amusing Wedding Stories and one Slightly Upsetting Wedding Story to come.

In other news I have handed in my notice and will become a Finance Analyst for a company that is in Britain and primarily looks after Gas. I have no idea if this is A Good Thing or Not, but it will be a change. Expect complaining by about the 22nd July.