Burn My World A Southpaw Curve

2006: the year that Borat ridiculed America, Saddam Hussein & Steve Irwin popped their clogs, a London cabbie made it on to BBC news, the hottest ever day was recorded, bebo and youtube took over people’s lives and I lost my hair. Overall, it wasn’t a bad year at all, providing some smashing memories such as an ace 21st Birthday party, seeing The Living End, and visiting New York, Skye & Leeds. In hindsight I generally feel older and wiser than the guy who wrote a similar entry to this one-year ago.

This year’s resolutions are a bit more focused and realistic than the last set – of which I kept half – so they should be easier to stick to.

1) Read more.
2) Play a song-a-day on guitar
3) Visit the gym once a week.
4) Drink less alcohol.
5) Eat healthy.
6) Visit my Grandparents more.
7) Release 2 CDs / Create a film script.

If you see me breaking any of these spank me in to shape!

December’s been quite strange, even systematic because all the generic Christmas shenanigans have to be taken care of: finish the last essays for the end of term, have the leaving night out, work night out, friends night out, go shopping, play a Christmas gig, open your presents, eat the meal, visit family & friends… all very robotic. Due to this pre-planned nature the rest of this account is nothing more than a string of observations, enjoy.

Christmas cards – nobody really bothers with them these days, are we too old or are cards not cool anymore? Warm money – perhaps the single most disgusting thing you have to handle. Famous people (Michael Barrymore) – just want to be treated like a normal person, not besieged by Wendy. Teachers – want to get as drunk as everyone else, even the senior ones. Drinking with teachers – surreal. Walking girls home – the gentlemanly thing to do, even three times a night. Wine – the tasty, and cost-effective beverage. Death – the only reason people are scared is because they don’t know when it’ll happen. Adverts – as good an indicator of society at the time as anything else. Being banned from a your favourite club – one of the best things that can happen. Essay-induced junk-food binges: Tea, Haribo, Pringles, Red Bull anyone? Finally, do girls shit? Yes, and it can smell as rancid as guys’ ones!

Decision Sits, So Make It Quick.

As these entries lower in frequency I’d love to say it was because something tremendous has taken over my life and I don’t have time to write them anymore, however only the latter part of that statement is true. Reading about the drugs trade is still fascinating but when you spend the guts of a month researching and five nights writing an essay on Mexico’s 2000 presidential election you know uni’s consuming your life. Then again, only six more months and I’ll be able to go knocking on doors for that full-time job.

Fitness has also been a pretty big thing in the past few months with at least one full-on gym session occurring every week. Don’t get me wrong, I love the satisfaction of eating a king rib supper straight after a work-out as much as the next person but I’ve realised the dark and sweaty corners of a fitness centre propagate two things: bacteria and homosexuality. Bacteria is part of the package, just bearable, and probably reduces the chances of catching all kinds of bugs and virii in the future, which makes up for having to stare at gorillas through the mist. However, the need for the gratuitous buftie standing butt-naked in the middle of a changing room towelling his crack and inspecting his bollocks really must be addressed.

After four years of waiting I finally managed to get tickets for a Living End gig, and it was possibly been the finest half-hour of the year. Being in awe only 10 feet away from your heroes, shouting every single word through their set was just so ace. Can’t wait ‘til they break the Europe and end up having bi-annual tours. In addition I also got a cheap ticket for the WWE tour, which was much more entertaining than I had predicted. The ringside seats guaranteed handshakes with a dozen or so wrestlers (HHH, HBK Cena, Jeff Hardy…) and being drunken, boisterous students shouting poppycock made for a pretty amusing evening.

Because going out at weekends means that most of them fuse together under the umbrella of ‘drunken shambles’ only two nights have stood out recently. The failed school reunion: well over one hundred people invited, attended by about 25. Still had an amazing time, and it provided the single most unforgettable ‘upskirt’ anyone could ever imagine – so bad that the entire priory dancefloor stood still in shock. Tonight: a Saturday night stained by the fact that everybody seems to think I’m a total raging sleaze (or something to this effect), thus won’t hang out with me. All is not lost because Wikipedia and rosé wine are making sure that at least some good comes from this void.

Final thoughts of this month – does anybody anywhere own a pair of shoes that doesn’t maul the heels and insteps of their socks? Can’t believe how many pairs I’ve been through in the past few months, god damn merciless trainers! My perpetual love for exodus is also beginning to wear, the past few weeks just haven’t done anything for me at all and the only real reason I’m there so much is because I abhor it less than every other place in town. Some serious club-swapping madness over the Christmas period is definitely afoot.

All The Fun I Was Supposed To Have

Naturally, the Leeds festival was the unquestionable peak of the past month or so. Pound for pound it’s probably the most entertaining activity you could invest in because there’s just something so right about seventy thousand people camping together in a few fields to watching 3 days of live music. The best or worst things about a festival depending on how you view them include: campfires / burning anything, the drug-free policy, sunburn, beards, visiting the toilets, neighbours and everybody’s carefree attitude. The highlights of this year consisted of; watching a couple get it on with a blow-up doll, throwing a bag of shit across a campsite, making people sing the Rasmus, teaching ‘highland dancing’, deliberately satirising Scotland, lobster Joe and his wig, Giving out asbos, yelling ‘Dan’, Long John and Sludge’s venomous drunk tune. Even though it was a tame trip when compared to the past few it was definitely one of the better festivals for music.

And then there was… Freshers Week. This year was too much for me: 11 out of 12 nights out in a row from the Wednesday before ensured a battering that even my liver isn’t accustomed to, and three weeks later I still can’t stand the thought of touching a drink. However, it was a smashing week, made even better by the over-the-top gay pink T-shirts we had to wear everywhere, from the train station through to the open mic night, which was cool because they were banter and fun magnets. Giving a guided tour of the town to about 60 confused students was almost as sweet as cashing in on free drinks every night and a liquid gold card!

The One True Onion gig at Kilau was almost certainly the most entertaining and enjoyable performance I’ve delivered in over 4 years of gigging. The feeling of having a room full of people sing-a-long to one of your songs is so good that it’s virtually inexpressible. Solo plans for the rest of the year will have to include getting an entire set of varied acoustic songs and releasing a CD or at least getting some recordings up on the ‘net. To match this it would seem that golfing has also been thrown back on to the agenda after a long time on the back burner, trying to break the 100 mark is the current task. It’d also be good to get weasel, peeps and other old timers back on the course too.

The other day I realised that what was once the sacred act of sleeping over at a friend’s house has evolved into two grown-up forms; ‘doing lunch’ and ‘crashing’. It would appear that my age group has officially waved goodbye to 12-hour Playstation or horror film binges with nothing but junk food and embraced mid-week catch-ups at lunchtime & waking up on your buddies’ floor. Damn, I’m going to miss those late nights and Jelly Beans.

Question: would you be happy with your life if you died tomorrow?
Answer: In the way that people saw and remembered me, yes. On a personal satisfaction scale there would be some things I’d change. I’d scarcely touch a games console after 16 years of age (or kill the guy who made Pro Evo Soccer); never turn down an opportunity to do anything with a girl; spend less time in education and do more working / travelling; take more care of my physique and drank much less.

Final trimmings from this month are going back to Uni with a face-melting five-hour timetable and actually enjoying the workload and being shouted at by a deaf and dumb lady. Also had my first doubts about becoming a teacher after being offered a job with 30k potential based on my social skills alone… perhaps teaching is best kept ‘til I’m older, wiser and wanting to pass on my knowledge. Hopefully I’ll have a better idea by the end of this teaching placement.

My Distraction

Between my long and exhausting trips to the library I managed to squeeze in some of the following during my week in Skye: cycling, dog petting, drinking, 24, Eilean Donan & Duncraig castles, a near car crash, stone-skimming, 24, drinking, massage, lighthouse / road trip, Seal Island walk, 24, cow pat premonitions, steak supper, silenced midnight shits, 16 mile cycle with Action Man bike stunt, sittin’ on the dock of the bay, 24, drunken barn dance, a first kiss, shoe sex, highland monsoon, Team America, 18th birthday party, posh meal, caravan pricing, meeting the pa, animal sex conversations and a flat tyre. After a lengthy period of sordid luck with the ladies it was amazing doing couply things again, I still can’t believe I’d almost forgotten how good normal dates and girls were!

With five years of working at Sainsbury’s I’m 95% sure that the best plan would be to get another job soon. The idea of only having had one job between workable age and going into a full-time career sounds a bit rubbish. I’d also like a job that’s more linked with my interests, like in Blockbusters or somewhere – delivering amazing customer service doesn’t really provoke many boners these days. The only downside is that I’d be switching jobs at the most crucial year of university and since Sainsbury’s is something like the 7th best company to work for or something I’d almost definitely be getting a raw deal.

“Seriously, you’re worth way better than a chicken sandwich”, “Someone’s trying to get me to jump ships” & “Mr Jones, wish you were keeping it clean with me, you’re so cool. Please take my hand and never make me drown with you”. Three reasons why using your phone whilst inebriated / drinking Carlsberg (camel piss) / going out with Spencer / conversing with pill-popping dodgers / trying to get off the carousel / watching Japanese zombie-musicals are all bad ideas. Although I finally got my chance at apologising to Jamie for being a total dick to her, which has certainly removed a load of piled-up guilt.

Finished reading ‘Down and out in Paris and London’ which is a totally amazing wee book, definitely worth a few re-reads later in life and although it’s a pretty good insight into a life of poverty and tramping, I still hate beggars. Also getting limbered up for a few acoustic gigs in the next few weeks that I’m totally looking forward to, having not done the whole One True Onion thing for a long time. Leeds is but a week or so away and with the tickets actually arriving it’s all starting to sink in. Finally getting to see Millencolin will hopefully be the highlight, also booked tickets to see the Living End in November… fucking yaldy!

Understandin', More Like Demanding

As this month draws to a close I can’t help but feel that I’ve just sat and watched it float by without doing anything substantial. After several days, three big plastic bags, four cloths and a Hoover bag my room was subjected to it’s annual gutting-out. Unlike the past few years however almost everything went, with the only exceptions being school jotters, Onion Terror paraphernalia and things of childhood / adolescent significance.

Speaking of the Terror, the intensity of recognition is definitely increasing, which is amazing because there are few things more satisfying than hearing someone tell you a story about a gig, how much they enjoyed a set or just pointing out that I’m in ‘that band’. We even managed to get a bystander laid by someone ‘way out of his league’ just because he ate a cherry pie on stage. I can’t believe our fair-weather fans have more success with the groupies than we do.

Had the first party at Ye Oldé Thain Tavern since Amy’s D.I.Y job a few years back in the form of a Hawaiian Knight out. It was good to see folk from work inebriated and dressed like speshul kids, everyone seemed to have a decent time. The only downside was my second spot of babie-sitting in two weeks, which included my third ever attempt at female toilet fishing. Whilst one could go on and moan about not being appreciated blah blah blah it was my fault for caring too much. Won’t be making that mistake again.

I was going to continue the moan about my balding brother Scott and I not being appreciated but I’d rather point out that my soundtrack to the summer has been dominated by three albums; All – Problematic & Mass Nerder and The Descendants – Everything Sucks. Not only are they musically sound, but they totally sum up the immediate post-teen lifestyle, so i'll just say that we’ve decided to make "I'm the one" by the Descendents our anthem.

Some other events of this month have been; abusing the hot weather by playing football with old schoolmates (it’s amazing how quickly half time changes from water and stretches to beer, fags, farts and joints), busking ‘Chewbacca’ on the violin at 4am, finally talking to my favourite goth customer from work – who turns out to be an interesting guy that’s been in the music industry for ages and sitting in my garden at ridiculous o’clock just chilling out with music and taking in the view of Aberdeen wakening up.

Don't Believe In All You Read.

Quite a laid-back month thus far that started off with a big day out to celebrate my mum’s attainment of a Geography Degree. The level of pride can’t really be put in to words as I watched her go up and collect the diploma; it was also cool speaking to Iris and the other just-as-proud family members sitting nearby. It was also good because it was an insight into the ceremony and pretty much preperation for next year if I graduate, and it was surprising to see so many people from work and town graduate; 30 year old man, stretched foetus girl, Austin, Debbie Argo... A nice meal washed down with many bottles of wine kicked off a token night in town, with the only alteration being that I was dressed beyond neatness.

In taking many boring walks down to university over the summer I’ve grown accustomed to watching the (un)development of the Northern College as it gets slowly levelled to the ground. It’s quite sad seeing a place with so many memories of football, underage drinking, friendship, cheap dates, ‘chaseys’ and general mischief being bulldozed and converted to luxury flats. The best memory of the college: sneaking under a lit window at night, only to jump / scream / bang and scare the shit out of a poor student who was just doing her dishes. Brilliant.

Much to my own surprise – with Leeds, Skye and several nights out to save for – I’ve taken up the cost-effective hobby of reading again. It’s not that I’m illiterate or loathe books, but it’s just something that I’ve never really managed to get in to for longer than a few days. Currently getting stuck in to some George Orwell and if it keeps going at this pace, it looks like the book collection will be mounting up over the next wee while.

Wit books in mynd, iz it n e wander th@ I-litter-acy in da UK is so hye, not just wit ppl watching 2 much Tee Vee, but wit the dyre mis-spellinz that we r subjected 2 every day. A quik-flik throo business part of a fone book makes me want 2 b sick in mí mouth. Substituting K’s for C’s and swapping S’s for Z’s doesn’t only hi-lite how poorly-named a cumpany is but shops lyke ‘Kolorz’ & ‘Kool Kutz’ shud b tried in court 4 pole-ooting Kidz’ Brainz!

However, on a lighter note, I discovered an amazing song this month, the lyrics of which will be used to appropriately end this blog…


I'm well aware that you are chemically imbalanced
But I'm the kind of guy that likes a challenge
My crazy kind of girl who lives in her own world
Who is legally insane

I'm not afraid and I will rise to the occasion
And I'll remind you when it's time for medication
For a mixed up little girl alone in this big world
Who is legally insane

You need someone who cares
When you're delusional
You need someone to hold your hand
If you're confused at all
I understand all the problems you got
I stay up nights on a suicide watch
For you...

I'll be with you until we find a good solution
And keep you out of any mental institution
You need some special care and I always will be there
Coz you're legally insane

It'll take some patience and a lot of sacrifice
Helping a lunatic get through her life
I'll protect you from yourself ‘cos you've got nobody else
And you're legally insane

You need someone who's there
When you're losing all your faculties
You need someone who understands
All your abnormalities
I understand all the problems you got
I stay up nights on a suicide watch
For you...

You need someone who cares (that's me!)
When you're losing it or delusional (you're not!)
You need someone to hold your hand
If you're confused at all (ho, ho, ho!)
I understand all the problems you got
I stay up nights on a suicide watch
For you... My Fucked up girl...

I love The Vandals.

Kick Start My Rock 'N' Rollen Heart.

After just one day and a chaotic night in town to celebrate the beginning of the World Cup I was back on a tiny plane bound for Jersey. After visiting the War Tunnels, Zoo and all the other typical touristy places in three days the last half of the holiday was dedicated to walking about and taking in the views. The average age is around 50, you have to stay there for 14 years - and be loaded - before you can buy a house and the longest / only motorway was about a mile in length. Unlike New York where everything is supersised, life on Jersey is quaint, downsized and rather old-fashioned.

On the last day we stumbled across the first place I would actually call paradise. A shimmering turquoise sea, tiny gold beach, costal view to die for and bright blue sky scattered with white vapour trails fashioned a view that I’ll never forget. Although it was a really nice place to relax there really is very little to do and see that doesn’t involve the 5-year period of German occupation, which stands on the middle ground between fascinating and depressing. The only way I’d to go back before I hit middle age would be for some more sightseeing and romancing.

Holly’s 21st birthday party at her parents’ farm provided yet more iconic pictures of this summer. Attempting to play football under the moonlight in a torn-up, soaking wet field and diving around in the reeds... for fun; a stupid o’clock walk in the hills with some smokes and two ‘skadgers’; watching the sunrise on swings with sludge, laughing our tits off. It was like one of those parties you wish you had when you were 10, but was still so much fun when you’re twice as old.

Finally got the dissertation off the ground with a few early visits to the abandoned library. The working theme at the moment is ‘solutions for combating the Latin American drugs trade’ but because the reading material is so fascinating it’s too easy to get completely preoccupied with irrelevant detail, the end result of this could be absolutely anything. It’s also the only thing I’ve encountered - other than teaching - which I really believe could develop into satisfying career. Whilst I thought it would have nothing to do with work, I’m pretty sure I served my first pimp the other night; an overweight and friendly Latvian with a stunning lady by his side who paid for his shopping by skimming 20’s off a roll worth at least £1,000.

Going back to old age, I attended my second funeral ceremony this month, which happened to be in the same place as the first, and brought back many memories from the day I parted with my Granda. Whilst the service was reasonable I definitely wouldn’t like my family and friends to see me off with the standard Christian goodbye. Not only are they sombre and depressing affairs but they seem to be more about hammering home the message of Christianity than the celebration and recognition of someone’s life. It also got me thinking about the scary situations you wouldn’t wish upon anyone, like growing old alone or losing the person you’d spent dozens of years with.

Finishing on the lightest of light notes, a possible solution those nasty scenarios. I’m starting to think that being ‘Mr Nice Guy’ (a.k.a. genuine, honest and actually caring about girls) for so long is finally standing me in good stead. Whether this is in my head or an actuality, only time will tell but it will be very interesting to see how the next few months pan out.

New York, New York.

(100 points for such an original title)

2nd June 2006.

Flew from Aberdeen, through Heathrow and on to JFK airport where it was spitting rain when we arrived. By the time our taxi ride hit Manhattan it was a flash flood, although American rain is far more tolerable than it’s chilled British counterpart. Having re-lived the same hour five times on the way over and being royally soaked we weren’t really up for much so Mama Mia tickets were purchased for the evening’s ‘entertainment’. Abba songs should never be given the opportunity to molest anybody’s ears ever again, let alone for another forty years, and especially not when they’re loosely intertwined with a very crap plot.

3rd June.



Fact: There's a tramp sleeping in the top right corner of the shaddow.

Walked up alongside the beautiful and tranquil Central Park towards the American Museum of Natural History where we spent the entire morning and afternoon strolling in awe through the dozens of large exhibit rooms. Whilst an entire day in a museum may sound boring, there was some pretty cool goings on. Firstly, it’s probably the last place on earth you’d expect to see two young, hot lesbians making out. As a bonus, the glass cases holding the ancient artefacts meant that perversions could be made from every conceivable angle! A more humorous aspect of the place was watching all the wannabe Attenboroughs kneeling all over the place trying to take amazing pictures of the (stuffed) animals in their natural (painted backdrop) habitats as if it were the real deal.


King Kong looking right at home.

Another brilliant feature of a weekend museum trip means hundreds of screaming American school kids; all at the perfect height for farting on, unlucky suckers. Finally, the best display in the museum had to be the very helpful and informative ‘How to get bitten by a snake’, which displayed the three best ways to ensure you get a lovely dose of venom in case you forgot how to piss off some of natures most effective predators. All in all, well worth a visit and definitely one of the best attractions NY has to offer.

At night time we went to a one of Manhattans finest steak houses for Paw’s 50th birthday meal. Definitely one of the nicest steaks I’ve ever had, and probably ever will have. Rounded up with some homemade NY cheesecake it was the most unadulterated and decadent of meals, certainly fit for the occasion. To work it off, a mini trip to the Virgin store on Times Square (a.k.a. paradise) where several old skool purchases were made.

4th June.

Started off the day with a prelude to the shopping that would be had later inside the Billabong and Quiksilver shops. From there we ventured towards Ground Zero, although even to somebody who had been up the old towers it didn’t induce any major emotions; probably due to the fact that in reality it’s still just a huge construction site. After watching part of a mega-boring photo shoot involving four anorexic models and two kick-ass vehicles we proceeded to the most southerly point in Manhattan. It was good to see the Statue of Liberty again, although a second visit to the actual island was pretty pointless as it’s a slightly disappointing landmark due to it being way smaller than it appears because of the huge stone base.


From the Brooklyn Bridge Footpath.

The next stop was a walk across the iconic Brooklyn Bridge, which was well worth the trek. Providing an excellent view of the Manhattan skyline, Staten Island and a close-up look at the bridge itself it is without doubt one of the island’s most overlooked attractions. It’s also amazing to think that is has stood there, untouched for over 120 years. After that a quick subway journey brought us to Grand Central station, which is more than impressive and apparently the famous concourse is still the largest room in the world. As we headed back to the hotel room the walk provided a nifty view of the Chrysler Building, which is definitely top competition for the title of coolest building in Manhattan.


The Chrysler Building from a few blocks away.

At night time we decided to head to the cinema to see X-Men 3, which turned out to be utter rot but the experience of being in an enormous, sold-out theatre complete with clapping and cheering is something else. The soon-to-be-famous Nacho Libre was also hanging around outside the building, doing free photographs, but because nobody had seen the trailer he just looked like a complete tool. Ironic because in turning down this oppertunity, I now feel like a tool.

5th June.

Again, we began the day with an enjoyable walk through central park, although this time the 'fun' was ruined when we arrived at the closed Metropolitan Museum of Art. Moving the day’s plans forward we ended up at the Guggenheim museum of modern art. Having enjoyed it immensely on our previous visit I was totally looking forward to this one, however something had gone seriously wrong. The main spiralling hallway was entirely devoted to a display of Zaha Hadid’s life’s work; which was totally boring unless you’re an aspiring architect or liked to masturbate over what powerful computers can do. The next biggest room was dedicated to the works of Jackson Pollock which included so much crap that I couldn’t look at more than three or four ‘paintings’. Seriously, this guy just threw paint on canvas and made millions for his 'unique expressions'. To top it all off the famous white exterior was surrounded by scaffolding and had been stripped completely bare to be re-worked, what the fuck!?


At least the actual inside is still cool.

Yet another long walk, this time down 5th avenue - where all the snobs live, brought us to an unplanned visit of the United Nations headquarters. This was a interesting for several reasons. Firstly, we were no longer in America as the grounds are considered international territory: sounds lame but who would arrest and prosecute you for anything in the building? Secondly, we got to walk around all the rooms and sites I’ve been reading about in books for the past six years or so which was strange but enjoyable. Finally, there was a UN bookshop where I got some handy publications about cocaine and other stuff relevant to my forthcoming dissertation.


"Non Violence". Features in dozens of I.R. Books.


The (in)famous UN Security Council.

After only managing to squeeze 3 stores into an hour and a half of ‘hardcore shopping’ it was obvious that a whole day would have to be set-aside for that. In the evening we headed up the not-so-famous Rockefeller centre for an alternative sunset view of Manhattan. Surprisingly it was quieter and just as good as the Empire State, with the added bonus of actually being able to see it. The only complaint was that a hideous office block obscured the view of the Chrysler building. As the sun set I just leant on the edge and watched darkness descend on the skyline. Finished off the night with a Surf 'n' Turf, which ended up being Steak and Lobster, lovely.


Central Park in the sunset.


The Empire State at night.

6th June.

The morning can only be summed up in one word: shit. This is not because anything specifically bad happened, or that I didn’t have fun, but that it is almost impossible to find a vacant public toilet in Manhattan. There was a McCoke-head in the first place I tried, needed a room key in the second, third and fourth attempts were undergoing ‘repairs’ and ‘upgrades’ (how can you possibly upgrade a toilet?) and when I found an empty Subway cubicle, no toilet roll. It felt like i was in a really bad Adam Sandler film, and was sustained by the fact that I was shopping with my sister, who spent 30 minutes browsing though most shops meant that it was one of the most painful four hours in my life : (


Outside my future home (Before the pain began)

With nothing but shopping planned for the best part of the day it could have been so boring but with it being the Big Apple nothing’s ever plain. Saw a big rapper, complete with a bodyguard and PR assistant just browsing in the same shop as us, sporting huge gold teeth and masses of bling. A short while later we stumbled across the coolest advertising technique, real people just sitting in glass boxes doing everyday things, ignoring everyone outside; questioning the publics opinion on what they see - how arty. Also, because it was 6/6/6 there was a massive cult hanging around Times Square giving out gnarly apocalyptic flyers and chanting. Before we headed back to the hotel with all our stuff I decided to check out the church of scientology, just for a laugh, but within five minutes the overly helpful lady was pitching a ‘very inexpensive’ book about the basics of her faith; how moral.


Times Square: possibly the most lively place on earth.

Overall it was about this time that I reached this conclusion; New York isn’t unlike any other holiday resort in the world, there are plenty of tourist traps and companies such as bus tours that will do anything to get some money out of you. Also, once you’ve been to all the main attractions there are not many other things to see, hence why there was nothing but shopping to do for the whole day. Although it’s not exactly a bad thing when you can pick up hyper-fashionable threads for a fraction of the UK price. I also saw this perfect quote on the library walk, with which I agree whole-heartedly.


What a guy.

7th June.

Probably the most disappointing morning of all because I spent three hours exploring a 50 block radius looking for a pair of flared jeans to no avail. Only one shop could even suggest something and that was to simply “buy chick jeans, that’s what some guys do”… Yes, some gender confused guys. What’s worse is that it made me feel very unfashionable because skinny jeans seemed to be all the rage. Before we headed back to the airport I tried out some ‘authentic’ sushi, which was pretty good, however it totally didn’t rank up there with Aberdeen’s finest. Another observation was that every imaginable space is fair game for advertising, from bus stops to roof tops, there are advertisements absolutely everywhere (see Times Square pic). It can add to the character of a city but you’ve got to question its impact when you see a 100foot tall, topless Jack Black. My final memory of Manhattan – the Taxi ride back to JFK airport – was completely tarnished by the fact that our driver played ‘Smooth Jazz’ for the duration of the journey. For anybody unfamiliar this ‘genre’ sounds like your watching a really old, really cheap 70’s porno. Gross.



Trump Tower, 5th Ave. A very impressive building.

In conclusion, New Yorkers take crap from absolutely nobody. This is probably why the standard of most things are relatively high in comparison with other places (i.e. we didn’t have one bad meal the whole time we were there). However, they are generally friendly towards tourists and you can always tell them appart because they don’t have time to waste, never take in the scenery and are usually stuck to their mobile phone. There are a lot of ‘characters’ walking around the streets, from people just speaking rubbish to zany beggars and self-proclaimed preachers - who generally also speak rubbish. The city is absolutely bursting with vibrancy and energy and I’ve seen no other place quite like it. It’s very safe and outside Times Square, relatively hassle free. After a total of 14 days there we’d managed to do everything we wanted to, and some things more than once. The only way I’d go back would be with my friends and if I did there’s no way I’d deprive myself of a visit to one of the hundreds of strip clubs. America in general also raises the question of what is wrong with the UK’s taste buds. Both Mountain Dew and Crunch chocolate failed miserably over here, and they’re the two greatest junk-foods in existence.

To anybody going there in the future, I’d recommend only going to the places you think you’ll enjoy, and to do plenty reading before you go there to save time. Also, we found that walking if the best way to get from A to B because you notice so much more of the small detail and liveliness the city has to offer.

What's My Age Again?

Now that was an awesome party! Cheap drink, good music, nice food, best friends and a twister board; what more could anybody want for their birthday? A bit of a disappointment regarding the turnout, considering about half the people I invited didn’t show face – because of the night I picked – but I wasn’t bothered as it made me appreciate the effort everyone else went to and created a house party-esqué atmosphere, which was quality. I half remember my birthday speech but I’m going to stick down a few things I reckon have made me the person I am today.

Family; and as far as close family members go, I couldn’t really ask for a better set. Don’t know if I could ever re-pay my mum for all the hard work she put into single-handedly raising myself, and Amy, but she definitely deserves every good thing she gets and loads more for her efforts. My aforementioned Granda was a father to me and as I wrote before, taught me so many things that I’ll never forget. A real-life legend who is still missed and will never be forgotten. Amy’s just Amy and I wouldn’t have her any other way; so glad we’re well passed the fighting stage, if we got any closer than we are these days I’m pretty sure it’d be illegal - Gads. Finally, I’m so appreciative of having such a cool, chilled-out, and caring (step) Dad, the fact that I grew up without one makes me value everything much more.

Friends; again, I’ve been more than lucky with the people I’ve ended up spending my free time talking to, hanging out and getting drunk with. I could write an entire blog entry on almost every single one of my friends, but that’s pointless because all anybody needs to know is that no matter what situation I was in, or where I end up, I know there will always be somebody there to talk to. The two people that deserve a special mention are Sludge and Holly because we’re so alike in almost every sense that I know we’ll be a in this ‘friendship triangle’ (that’s the gayest thing I’ve ever posted) ‘til we’re six feet under.

Girls; even though I’ve only had a handful of girlfriends, and fewer serious relationships they have been amongst some of the most complex and tortuous connections I’ve had with other people. The things I’d change: I wish I wouldn’t have been such a dick to Jamie on multiple occasions; that Lucy would have given me more time; that Emma, Lorna and Jenni didn’t string me along; and that Alex could have left the drama at the door, keeping everything straight-forward.

Music; sounds pretty trivial but completely relates to the last three. Growing up with every genre of music, from Jazz through to Disco laid the foundations to my current broad taste. The biggest single influence was without a doubt was ‘Enema of the State’ simply because it is the perfect soundtrack to teenage life, not to mention it being full of fantastic songs. This saw the big jump from Indie to Punk, which got me into starting bands, going to gigs and subsequently meeting an entirely new set of people – if only I could find that English paper from 6th year I wrote about the album.

All in all, like everyone else my age, I could have ended up being a totally different person with opposite hobbies and friends. However, even though it’s interesting to think about ‘what could have been’ there’s not a single thing I’d change about my past or present life. From the shy loser in primary school and the easily led kid at secondary, roots are part of what makes you who you are today. I’ve never understood why some people wish to forget or lie about their roots; they're something you can’t change but most of all, something to be proud of!

Speaking of roots, as a conscience decision, I finally began the first steps towards shaving my hair. With the birthday clippers I set to work on my “hair don’t” that hasn’t changed much in a good ten years and I can’t say that it was an enjoyable experience. It’s also pretty lame when your pubes are longer than, and don't look as silly as, your actual hair! Personal reminder: never let your mum ‘tidy up the back of your head' with a razor, chunks galore.

Out Of Line, And Rarely Sober.

What a superb weekend, the sort that you could repeat week in, week out and never get bored of. Finished an essay on Friday then went to a 21st house party and had a quality time getting drunk and stoned within a relatively new circle of friends, which is always a good thing. On Saturday I wondered in to town with Crocker to get some sushi, play pool and watch some football. Then I nipped over to the Phlat and watched a film about some dude who grew a massive rotating drill for a penis with the guys.

Started the big night out in Private Eyes: my second ever strip-club experience after the Bulgarian jaunt over three years ago. For the first hour or so I wrestled with thoughts about why women would get their cannons and giblets out for such low sums of cash, but then started feeling too tipsy to care about the hidden motives behind the skilful art of grinding on a guys lap. As everybody else went in and out of booths I gazed in terror at the worlds fattest aspiring stripper, and after Andy failed to coax a dance out of her we all agreed to head to the next club; except from Sludge, who would have probably stayed there all night hadn’t everyone else left.

On our way to Five Sludge and Wilson were stopped by the police for “instigating a fight” (geez, somehow I don’t remember hearing about that charge before) and apprehended for a good 15 minutes to everyone else’s amusement. Nice job coppers, whilst you’re wasting time running background checks on two friends for toy fighting and searching them for any contraband some poor bugger’s being mugged or beaten up a few streets away. Assholes.

On our way to the concluding venue the police made another visit after Andy threw a bin in at Sludge, but they didn’t seem to care much this time. Finally, we all boarded the Tropicana train. Didn’t think I’d like it as much, but the club was amazing. We were easily the youngest people there, everybody was out for a good time, the Dj didn’t moan about cheesy requests – I touch myself et.al. – and as I lost track of time dancing I eventually realised that everybody else had disappeared. Didn’t bother me though because a bolognaise and pineapple pizza is more than adequate company for the walk home.

Moral of the story: there are other places in town yonder Belmont Street, and although you burn a little more money, the variation and standard of entertainment is well worth the extra tenner here and there.

Whilst the above sounds like one of those boring “I did this, then that” accounts of ones weekend I know it’ll bring back these entertaining memories time and time again upon re-reading it. Also, don’t think the standard’s dropping for long because to coincide with my 21st birthday the next pensive instalment will have a lot more meat to it. Please don’t ask me why I wrote this in an anecdotal and informative manner either.

A Not-So-Super Hero

The past few weeks are definately top contenders for the title of most lethargic and pointless of my life so far. I’ve completely lost focus on everything. Spent over 30 non-stop hours forcing out an essay that should have taken a single morning to complete, shattering my previous late night record of 6am an by a good 5 hours. Question: Why did it take so long? Answer: I have no idea.

The past weekend was also deplorable; drunk on Friday, can’t remember much of Saturday night and I even did my back in like an old fart on a floor. Had to force out some puke at work - Wilma Style - on Sunday to rid my body of all the crap and stop the shaking. My room’s a mess and I’ve got absolutely nothing else to write about.

“Damn! I’m turning into one of the very motherfuckers I can’t stand”

Sick Of Playing The Same Old Games

Absolutely amazing, three weeks off of university that can only be summed up in one word: Inertia. To make matters worse, I finally bumped in to Ricky who now runs his own business, makes shitloads of cash and has massive savings in various forms. He didn’t go to Uni and is already one of the more successful people I know. Naturally, finding this out only increased the apathy levels regarding work.

These few weeks have also been plagued with bad dreams featuring Onion Terror. The first was that we were playing in a prison – then we all got murdered, the second was in a warped Moorings, where nobody listened to us and we were replaced mid-set. I’m currently having massive doubts anyway about the shape of the band because I seem to be the only person trying and we’ve not collectively learnt a song in about a year.

I wonder how many old dogs have actually learnt new tricks over the course of time. I say this because years after I was first acquainted with a person, they’ve managed to pull exactly the same moves from their bag o’ tricks on one of my best friends. Perhaps it’s a coincidence or just circumstantial but I really don’t know whether to crack a smile or a cringe because this dog just loves to create the illusion that it’s always in danger.

Also, why is it that almost every marvellous spectacle you’re likely to witness – from someone falling over and hurting themselves to top-heavy ladies running for the bus – will inevitably be ruined by a visual obstruction? If I had a Euro for every time this happened to me I could start up my own bureau de change!

Finally, the other day I thought how weird it was that in my 20+ years on earth I may not have even met the person who I might wed / trust more than anyone else. After realising how many things can happen in 20 years and how they change the direction of peoples’ lives it’s strange that you might not witness, or know anything about such a significant time of your partner's life.

A Different Angle.

Instead of writing a big list of things that piss me off I've decided to make this entry a snap-shot of everything that I do, watch, eat and generally like at the moment. Sounds a bit up-my-own-arse but it'll be nice to compare this to a similar list in a few years time.

Food:
Steak, Prawns, Garlic, Onions, Mushrooms, Sweet Potato, Butternut Squash, Beef Jerky, Mackrel, Snack-A-Jacks, Kangaroo, Ostrich, Apple Crisps, Kiwi Fruits, Strawberries, Mango, Gammon, Sardines, Dark Chocolate, Pringles, Pineapple.

DVD / TVs:
24, Mighty Boosh, Young Ones, Fucking Amal, Brass Eye, Love Me If You Dare, The Day Today, Oldboy, Mythbusters Lilja-4-Ever, Man Bites Dog, Together, Kill Bill, Amores Perros, Family Guy, Europa, Peep Show, I Heart Huckabees, Memento, Happiness, Airplane!, Dear Wendy, Three Colours: White, Megastructures, Katakuris, Goodfellas, Run Lola Run, South Park.

Music:
Modern Artillery, Bleed American, United By Fate, Pennybridge Pioneers, Infiltrate Destroy Rebuild, Look What I Almost Stepped In, Casually Dressed, Playmate Of The Year, Dude Ranch, New Found Glory, What It Is To Burn, Subliminal Verses. The Colour And The Shape, How It Works, Hang-Ups.

Misc.
Guitars, Playing Live Music, Alcohol, Playstation, Nice Clothes, Playing Pool, Cooking, Exercising, Parties, Writing, Jack Bauer, Thinking, Socialising, Reading people's blogs, DJing, Songwriting

"It's Been Emotional"

Totally stole it from Vinnie Jones but those three words ultimately ended one of the most complex and unconventional relationships I've had with another person. So many oscillations between the good and the bad stuff that the chances of our status staying in the same place for more than a few months was comparable those of a snowball surviving in hell. The worst thing is, I'm still unsure about how well I knew the real her. Anyway, I guess we'll just have to wait and see if the pendulum decides to swing again.

Also managed to clear things up with how I feel about Leanne and I reckon she appreciated it because she seems much more comfortable and talkative now. However, after this week of bridge building and burning I'm left completely single with my eye on nothing other than my exams; which is a refreshing change.

With 3 months of no significant stomach shrinkage I just found out that crunches are much more effective and guess what, they don't even fuck up your back a-la sit ups. Also going kicking the sauce for at least a few weeks again; same reasons as last time, plus I lost about 4 hours of the weekend courtesy of my ol' friend Snake-Bite. And if I needed another excuse, seeing Sludge pose for his portfolio after a few bottles of wine was enough to put anyone off of booze forever!

Two essays, a birthday party and two exams are currently all that currently stand between New York, Leeds festival and 12 weeks of freedom. Note to self: buy the advance tickets next year. Finally - Sweet 'N' Sour, Steak and the Stir Fry are the dishes that have been absolutely mastered this month, with a few more under my belt and I'll be ready to take Grossman's crown.

Work To Feed The Soul?

Man, I despise nostalgia. Just spent a few hours having the annual chat to Lindsey T, school sweetheart, about what-could-have-been. It's all-good for shits and giggles but it just re-animates feelings that died a long time ago and is made even more fruitless by the fact that everything else has changed and it's impossible to hook up anyway.

Also diagnosing myself with another condition, Alcohol Induced Soft-Core Kleptomania (Not to be confused with Necrophilia). I woke up this morning with a new, huge road sign at the foot of my bed. Added to my growing collection of items that have made their way into my room and it's pretty obvious I have a minor condition.

The health plan's finally starting to produce some results. With the working out and proper eating I'm beginning to feel and see some changes. Upper body strength is up and with the consumption of fish on a daily basis my head feels much sharper. Also, with resolutions in mind, moving out is now on the back burner. I just realised how unappealing working full time is, and that some major sacrifices of in my current lifestyle would be required just to make ends meet. I guess it's better waiting 'til a full wage is thrown in my direction, making money an obsolete issue.

Vimto is getting it's own paragraph now, and not just because it tastes like you're drinking Ribena straight out of someone's arse. A bottle that had done nothing all day just exploded over my keyboard, and I just realised that it's an anagram of Vomit (which ironically leaves a better after-taste in your mouth). Everything about this so-called 'drink' is wrong.

Tell Me All And I'll Tell You

It's remarkable how many skeletons can emerge from numerous closets in a single week. Act I: The song and dance of finding out that people you held a reasonable opinion of are actually bithces, that some just love stirring the shit, watch alcohol cheapen someone you know, and that others are incapable of accepting you as you are. Act II: The dirty little secrets and information everyone has stashed away in the back of their minds, just laying dormant 'til something activates them again. Then the curtain falls.

Watched the matrix the a few days back and I'd totally forgotten how brilliant and sexy it is. Although through all of the effects, philosophy and fiction there's one thing that literally jumps out of the film; question everything you know - what you're told, what you do, all the rules and norms you follow, even your existence. It's also fascinating to see how the characters become so dependent on many different things - power, others, love or looking at porn. Pretty deep huh?

I think I saw my real Dad the other day, assuming that he's still in the same job. Even after a few 'near' sightings I'd still have no idea how to act, or what I'd say if he approached me. Seriously, what a douche. On the note of spastics I actually saw a 'chav' take on an articulated lorry today. I don't think it crossed his mind that it could have turned him into strawberry jam within a second, idiot. He was just so sure that either:

A) The multi-ton lorry would stop
B) He could dodge it with little notice
C) He would be able to punch straight through it with a sovereign.

Last night was the first of the 21st birthday parties, and what a night it was! Good to see all the ol' schoolmates back together, catch up with everyone and drink hours of the evening out of my brain. Wilson's birthday always gets the ball rolling, two more this week and another few pencilled in for the next month, makes me kinda look forward to my one too, hope it kicks ass.

Conscience In The Gutter

In patches for over a year Leanne has repeatedly infiltrated my thoughts, pity that it’s taken me that long give up on her. After several pseudo dates, even Forrest Gump and a sexy meal couldn’t induce a single kiss, so I’ve accepted that nothing’s going to happen. A few weeks ago I was stuck between failure (which isn’t flattering) and relief (that I’m not kidding myself on any more). Although on the good side I can officially say and do anything to her without worrying if it looks or sounds cool.

On the good hand Onion Terror managed to grab an award at this year’s Fudgees; Best Punk Band, which is ace because we’re not even punk, but shit because almost all the other bands in the category had split up. Lost out on Best Performance by one vote, Gutted, although it still called for a big celebration. The 10 Easy Wishes gig a week later was also a night to remember, but that’s a completely different story involving profuse levels of alcohol and cat food, kinky.

The observation on humanity today is the personal space that dominates everything these days. Mobile phones and music players are just two of the things that ensure everyone has there own private area, detached from everyone else’s. I was on a packed bus the other day and between tracks on my MP3 player I couldn’t hear a single conversation around me; kind of worrying when we’re supposed to be a civilised society.

I’ve also managed to diagnose myself with constant tiredness. No matter where I am or what I’m doing all I want to do is fall asleep. Most weekdays I have a siesta, and I’m even missing lectures because I can’t get out of bed. The worst thing is, my days aren’t busier than they were last month. I can only hope that this is a phase, because the last thing I want to be is a human sloth, although going to the toilet once a week to crap out most of my body weight does sound appealing. Unfortunately in a year, an average person uses the toilet 2,500 times.

Standin' On A Streetlight.

After almost a month of turning every scenario over in my head I finally got the exam results back. Scoring a 15 for Politics and 17 for I.R. (the highest mark I’ve ever had). Suffice to say I’m satisfied with them; it also makes the four weeks of 9 o’clock library starts well worth while. These results called for a big night in town, but when the drinks started flowing I was inebriated before I knew it.

Three weeks solid without a drink and I can’t believe how fast the tolerance level drops. Left town at about one and woke up feeling like ultra-shit, leading to only one outcome: From now on I am 'Mr Moderation'. No more getting absolutely wrecked just for the sake of it, because I’ve came to realise that the costs of alcohol are far outweighed by the benefits of sobriety. Shelled out £30 on drinks last night compared to £7 the week before on coke.

It’s also been a good few weeks for catching up with people. Spent a few days with Sludge, Peeps, Gareth and the Shotgun-Blues crew, which has been beneficial because just when I think I’m beginning to drift away from people it turns out that most of them are going through the same changes or problems. Also, with more time being spent on coursework than in previous years the time spent with mates also means a lot more.

Overall, a humdrum month so far - no valentines, a bad virus, a victory over beer and successful relationship with the health plan. Two pseudo-dates being among the highlights and having been nominated for 5 local music awards (Best performance, Best Punk, Best Band, Worst Band and Most Punchable) the Fudgees are looking to be an eventful evening, the least Onion Terror could do is retain the Performance award.

I'll Give You yours, I Won't Take Mine

Where to start, where to start… Firstly, last night provided the definitive understanding in where my pulling technique has gone wrong. Within one song I had danced / conversed with about seven girls, but had no chance or didn’t want to try it on with my friends, for obvious and not-so-obvious reasons. Around all these girls people probably either think I’m a slag or that I’m actually seeing one of my friends, thus develop no interest. Question: how do you solve this politely? Answer: I have no idea.

As part of my fitness resolution I have given up alcohol for several reasons. A) To prove I’m not dependent on the stuff. B) To analyse the cost benefits. C) To observe any health benefits. Initially I though being sober would suck-ass but it’s pretty much as fun as drunken nights out, but you spend less and remember more. I have also changed the ol’ diet eradicating almost all traces of unhealthy food. Mackerel, kiwis, dark chocolate and sweet potatoes are immediate highlights.

Everything else is the same at the moment: trying harder at university, working out more, saving money, playing guitar more and so on. There’s much anxiety in the air regarding the pending exam results, although I studied so hard (probably in the top 10% for both exams) on reflection I utterly ruined both papers under exam stress, needles to say I’m pretty indifferent about these results.

Today’s rant is about the – lack of – manners in the young people who make up the local music scene these days. Yesterday in Drummonds I got pushed (hard), stood on, ignored, hassled and offended by hundreds of little shits who think that takin’ photos for myspace and talking to their friends scattered around the venue is the essence of a good local gig; what a bunch of gimps.

The last talking point of today is how brilliantly domestic abuse is satirised on the television these days. Ingredients: 1 petite, vulnerable and innocent looking polite female; 1 drunk, overpowering and aggressive Glaswegian Stella drinker; some everyday scenarios completely tarnished by the abusive male. What a crock of shit, I don’t think they’ve ever touched on the fact that there’s as many male victims and female. “Expect me to eat this” and “You look a state” being my favourite quotes from these adverts.

Step Right Up And Be A Man.

So that’s it! Another set of exams over, one whole day off – which I spent hobbling around and in hospital – and I’m back into classes again tomorrow for another four months. The next fool I hear talking about how student life is easy will be getting some of my imaginary mother fucking, foot-induced, ambulance-summoning, unstoppable fighting technique.

You never realise how much you rely on your two feet until one of them is (half) out of action; you can’t walk properly, dance, look cool, exercise… the list is endless. Note to self: Never stand on a nail again, ever. Haven’t really had much time to think of anything or even notice anything interesting in my life this month because I’ve been clocking in stupid hours keeping myself busy. Highlight of the month: actually laughing to the point of vomiting with Holly over a ridiculously funny comic book.

My only gripe about this month has been my inability to read the girls I’ve encountered. When I’m in the grey zone, between conversation-driven friendliness and possible openings for advances, I never say, or even hint at the possibility because I can’t pick up any vibes. I reckon it’s time for some person to invent one of those devices that detect this sort of things, or I could read a book about it, but that’d just be sa-a-ad.

You'll Never Find Another...

What an interesting week(end) doing a spot of living alone. A lot of cooking, a lot of films, lots of cool stuff to do and a huge dose of loneliness. Quite an accurate reflection of the last few years, excluding a blip. Superficially its been great with hundreds of amazing days and nights, in and out, here and there with so many memories to look back on, but a stability factor of absolutely zero. I have many friends, but not a single person I could call a ‘best’ friend anymore; heaps of girl-friends, but not a hint of a proper girlfriend, so on and so forth. Initially it really got to me but now I don’t mind much because it’s not for my lack of trying.

On the flipside of the coin the flat-sitting has given me more determination than ever to switch over to moving out mode. The whole independence thing is far from over-rated, because there’s absolutely nothing like being in complete control of everything you chose to do. Also, with me officially mastering the arts of creating sweet ‘n’ sour, chicken, gammon and stir fries I might as well cross one of the resolutions off already, making this an excellent start to the year. Actually, I don't know why people complain about cooking because it's very relaxing and an ace method of showing off your flair for food and tastes.

That bit of 'loon' left inside me is shrinking much faster than I thought it would. Almost half a month in to the new year and I've absolutely no intention of getting hammered again 'til my birthday, put my first lump sum away towards a flat, started eating healthier and done extra exercise every day. 'Mon the resolutions!

Revision's really starting to eat my face from the skull. As entertaining the library is spending 5 days a week in one seat is pretty crap. The only vices in that place are pseudo-flirting with everyone and farting for a reaction because it's not as if the stuff I'm learning for the first exam is new or interesting... only 6 days left 'til I get on to the meaty stuff of I.R.

Also found out that toasters work by using a device called a thermocouple - which pops up at a certain temperature - or timers, which are heat resistant. Fact #2: Bread begins to toast at 154 Degrees Celsius so no wonder you burn your hands on the fuckers. The new task is to catch up with all the DVD's purchased in the mega-sales last week, although i know that's not much of a challenge.

One Day At A Time.

As 2005 drew to a close last night I couldn't help but think how strange the year was. So many things had happened, but it was impossible to recall a single moment that stood out as being amazing or significant. Lots of things to Aim for in 2006 though, the following is a list of 'New Years Resolutions' which are actually things i never managed to achieve in the summer.

Get Buff: By losing the miniature beer belly.
Write more songs: And release another Onion Terror CD.
Paint more: As it's one of the more enjoyable pastimes.
Start Cooking: Because I'd probably make an ace chef.
Get a girlfriend: Sounds lame but i really miss the company.
Write a film script: As I have many good ideas stored up.
Learn to drive: It'll probably come in handy.
Have a manic party: 21 years young, can't wait.
Move out: To get some independence, or something like that.

Piece by piece it feels like the wee loon in side of me is slowly disappearing, and I'll even get a small taste of leaving the nest when I do a bit of flat-sitting this week, which should be good. All in all the main task of this year is to apply myself more to the things I wish to accomplish.