Saturday, January 13, 2007


I can post tonight assured that there's not actually anybody reading: they're all orff at some kind of blogmeet.

Starting off with the all day breakfast (eggs, sossidges, beans, fried bread, three rashers of bacon, fried tomatoes, black pudding, two slices of limp bread and butter and a grubby mug of milky sugary tea) at a top secret motorway service station "to line the stomach" it appears to have turned into a sordid pubcrawl in the West London area and involves psychobilly Oyez! !Billy! ...

... Llllllewtrah, Realdoc, Rockmoootha, Annie, Great She Elephant, Joooooollz, Patti Boyd, Jean Shrimpton, Anita Pallenberg ... and a cast of loads of other women.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking.

It doesn't bear thinking about any further.

... anyway, moving swiftly on, I spent last night drifting off to sleep drunkenly watching Celebrity Big Brother. Dirk Wotsit off of The A-Team was reminiscing tediously about the birth of one of his children to Jermaine Jackson, who was barely managing to stay awake.

This morning, I switched the telly on again (to check the weather out on BBCi text) and the first thing I saw was Dirk Wotsit, STILL reminiscing tediously about something or other with Jermaine Jackson!

Jermaine Jackson is supposed to be a very quiet person. If you're quiet, you're used to being told that you're "a good listener". This means "I am a boring cunt and most people interrupt me, but you always listen politely to me".

Poor Jermaine.

In other telly news, I do hope that there is a YouTube clip of Charlie Stubbs singing the Oasis song up pretty soon. One of the funnier things I've encountered in recent times. Even funnier than Tracy Barlow attempting to lapdance to Oasis, the least likely band on the planet that you would lapdance to.

In the meantime, and, because no one is reading, heh heh, you will have to make do with Noosha Fox, laydeez and gentleman.

Bottoms up.

I'm here. There aren't any other bloggers in Ashford so I'm having my own meet here in my bedroom, sitting on my s-s-s-single bed. I'm not writing a novel, either.
Ain't nobody here but us chickens.
Hmm ... I wonder if there have been any John Bonham type casualties? Are they still on the ale, sitting around a brazier in a supermarket car park? Such squalor ...
What the fuck's a "blogmeet" and how do I avoid one?
It was fun and you were sorely missed - I can remember leaving at about 5 in the afternoon after having far too much wine on an empty stomach in too short a space of time and can remember getting in but cannot for the life of me remember the middle bit of the journey home. Shocking!

Still got a slight headache.

Bob Swipe made me take along a 'sorry I can't be there' message which was interesting and awfully big-headed of him I must say!

Anyway - got to go and lie down again.

I'll be back later.

I wasn't thinking about naked woman. Fresh fruit desserts and furry rumps are my passions.
Dive - a blogmeet is a gathering of bearded pub bores who discuss their enthusiasm for light railways and cricket in droning voices for hours and hours. The only places in the world where there haven't been blogmeets yet are Siberia, Borneo and Daventry, so those are places you may consider moving to in order to avoid them.

Rockmother - I think humans have some sort of internal compass like carrier pigeons, which helps us get home when we're really drunk. Otherwise we'd all end up at a railway sidings in Aberdeen at three in the morning everytime we went on the lash.

Get plenty of vitamin C, have a walk in the park. It's a lovely crisp, sunny day!

Yeah, I know ...

Gorilla Bananas - fresh fruit desserts are the sort of thing I should be thinking about if I want to get into shape. Better than a detox any time. Mind you, I'm not sure about the furry rumps. The thought of Robin Williams wearing a thong springs to mind. I'm sure that you wouldn't want to be faced with that in The Congo.
Cheers Bettster.

I resolved to have a Resolve, have hoovered the house from top to bottom (nearly puked), and am going to do the windows and sweep the garden next.

I don't understand - didn't even drink that much although I didn't get much sleep as next-door-but-one had an all night 'I've just moved in' party. I was awake half the night waiting for them to turn the bloody music down. Lack of sleep - getting old.
I couldn't stop laughing at Tracy Barlow's dancing. It was very reminiscent of psycho Jill Farrell in BBC's "Nighty Night".
Betty darling it was just so divine! I worked the room like the old pro I am and saw so many old, lovely, dear (did I say "old"?), wonderful friends but missed you. I missed you like the parched deserts of the Kalahari miss succulent spring rainfall.
Then I discovered it wasn't "Dog-meat" at all, so made my excuses and left.
Please suggest bands you think are better suited for lap dancing than Oasis.
Good lord, that album cover is uncannily like the blogmeet. We were plotting how we could get you to join Billy's harem, you know.

And thanks for introducing me to Noosha. What a distinctively nasal singing style she has. On Wikipedia it says her look was modelled on Marlene Dietrich, but comes across more Worzel Gummidge.
Rockmother - hoovering the house from top to bottom? Window cleaning and sweeping the garden? You've made me feel consumed with guilt now.

It's drinking during the day that makes you feel really rough - don't know why. That's the reason Christmas takes so long to recover from.

Sky - yeah, and the fact that she said that she'd planned to "walk out" on Charlie that night, while dressed in a boob tube, pvc mini skirt, fishnets and boots from a sex shop.

Murph - ooh, me too dahling, mwah, mwah. Mind you, a "dogmeet" might be a more appropriate place for me to turn up than a blogmeet, lol.

MJ - good idea! Here are a few of my suggestions:

Anything by Napalm Death
The Wedding by Spike Jones
Come To Daddy - The Aphex Twin
European Son - The Velvet Underground
The Birdie Song - The Tweets
With My Little Stick Of Blackpool Rock - George Formby

Annie - not a good idea for me to join anyone's harem. I am five hundred years old and, frankly, everything flops about in a southerly direction unless I'm wearing heavily scaffolded undies these days. It's quite frightening.

I should imagine Noosha Fox was one of those women who had at least thirty cats in her house. Mind you, I quite like the Fox singles and it was a nice, silly antedote to the West Coast rock that I'm forcing myself to listen to.
Germaine is obviously on valium, betablocker and Nytol cocktails with a mallet on the head for chasers.
Strangely lovable though.

Not that I watch televison of course.
In the end, The Whales turned up so it wasn't just me surrounded by women.
Fuck Me - I didn't realise Boy George had been going *that* long! You truly are the Queen of YouTube clips Betty. More TV, please...

Oh, and there's a new song (and look) over at munterspace, if you wanted to check it out..

Did you hear the dedication you got on wadcast2? How much does a headphone splitter cost, FFS??



p.s. I'm *SO* cheesed off I missed Spinny at the blogmeet. I'd been at the gym too, working at the six pack all week (I know, I know, I'm never going to get rid of this beer gut drinking six cans of beer, even if I *do* drink them at the gym, but, hey! - it's the thought that counts....)
Jermaine Jackson is a fucking weirdo.

Almost as much so as his kiddie-fiddling (yeah, I know he was found innocent, but we all know the truth) white brother.
Gets out red pen - *Jermaine*
Thanks Pig and Taz.
Kaz - I only see Celeb Big Brother when I'm drunk. I don't recall much of it, which is just as well. I've yet to work out an opinion of Jermaine, because he never seems to say anything whenever I see it. Teddy Sheringham's girlfriend is a bit flakey though.

Roberta - I don't think Spins was as the blogmeet (well, it is a bit of a treck down from Bristol just to go to a motorway service station, don't you think?).

I just assume that blogmeets are full of people who look like the cast of Hollyoaks, but have doctorates, so it's all a bit too intimidating for me.

Um, I haven't heard the podcast yet ... weekends are a time for quiet reflection away from the internet doing stuff like going to Homebase and fixing the tiles on the roof. I WILL listen tomorrow, promise. Thanks for the dedication um, anyway.

P & T - if I was a more dedicated viewer of Big Brother I might be able to form an opinion on him. Mind you, if one of the Jackson clan was anything less than a thousand per cent nutter I'd be very surprised and disappointed.

Kaz - I thought it was a reference to Germaine Greer and was confused at first!
It was pretty exhausting stuff you know. Billy & I walked back then crashed out for a "2 hour nap", not surfacing again till Sunday morning! Must do it again :)
Billy - uh, sorry, I seemed to overlook your comment yesterday. Anyway - two men and seventy women is still a slightly uneven balance!

Llewtrah - it's drinking in the afternoon that does it. Lethal. Mind you, I can talk. I fell asleep for about an hour on Saturday night after drinking, woke up and felt as though I was dying.
"Bob Swipe made me take along a 'sorry I can't be there' message which was interesting and awfully big-headed of him I must say!"

I won't fucking bother next time then!!


Big 'eaded Bob.
Erm ... Bob, La Berta, whoever you are at the moment - you could've just send a note saying that the dog had eaten your homework or, as one of my teachers never tired of telling us, that note where someone's mum says he can't be there "because of diarrhoea through a hole in his shoe".

I especially watched the Corrie omnibus last night on your recommendation and yes, Tracy Barlow trying to lapdance to Oasis is probably the funniest thing I hae ever seen. Thank you.

Bob and 'Berta appear to be morphing into one another like in THe Fly. I'm scared.
I guess the producers of celebrity whorehouse couldn't afford Tito?

What the..Noosha? She reminded me of Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles.
"Gawdammit I'm exhausted...ahahahahah"
Spinsterella - if Tracey Barlow is leaving the show, I wonder if she'll "return" in the form of yet another Tracey Barlow in a couple of years time? There must have been about seven so far (the one before this was Indie Tracy Barlow).

Hmm, Roberta is supposed to be 25, but on the most recent podcast she said a song reminded her of "growing up in the early '80s". As they say across the Atlantic, you do the math.

HE - is Tito an even more wacko Jacko? Or slightly less wacko? Who were the other ones ... isn't there an older sister who isn't actually involved in music?

Following Noosha, I might do a Great Overlooked Hits Of The '70s feature ... Movie Star by Harpo, or Loving You Has Made Me Bananas by Guy Marks. Mind you, they're probably not on YouTube, so you've all had a lucky break.
Surely there must be a Youtube of Peter Sarstedt doing "Marie-Claire" or even better, "Take off Your Clothes"?
Dave, there only seems to be the obvious Where Do You Go To My Lovely on YouTube. A lot of people seem to take against that song, but I love it. Peter Sarstedt also had an excellent moustache.
Oh stop it Boberta - it was a lovely thing to do. Back in your box!
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