Friday, 29 April 2011
I couldn’t decide on a George dress from Asda or a charity shop jobbie. There was nothing in the local donation bins, and the Cancer Research shop had closed down. I haven’t seen an Oxfam on the high street since I was a kid. Garden hopping in Alderley Edge for a burst of washing line snatching didn’t even enter my mind, honest. I gave a smackhead a tenner to rob one from Debenhams.
I managed to book the ceremony in the local bingo hall. The cleaners there are a joke. The floor is stickier than the back of the 14 bus. It’s like a cave in there. We’ll have to leave the fire escape open to let some light in.
You can bring your embarrassing uncle if you want, the one who buys his tracksuits from TJ Hughes, & I’ll let our nobhead pop along so he can talk about himself all night. I’ve arranged a special invite for Keith Lemon. He said he was going to arrive by helicopter in a mankini for no fee but I think he might be blagging me. I tried to book Borat and Keith Chegwin but no success.
Don’t forget to invite your old man too so he can throw some wild robotic shapes on the dance floor. We’ll spike his lagers with vodkas and pro plus. There’s nothing funnier than watching somebody else’s dad dance.
We have malt loaf, sponge puddings we boil in a tin, or swiss roll for the wedding cake. I considered making my own with flapjack and whipped cream so I could bung in a handful of green hash to make everyone happy, but in that dark bingo hall they would probably go paranoid and start seeing bats.
I bought a ring from a traveller in the pub but it melted in my pocket when I sat against the radiator. The smackhead said he will sort me a smash n grab jobbie from Warren James the jeweller’s window. If all else fails, it’ll have to be a St George’s medallion from Argos for £38.99. Don’t worry I can get my cash back on the 28 day money back guarantee.
I’m shaving my muzzy especially for when the priest says you may now kiss the bride. I might even go for a fondle and quick dry hump. How far are we allowed to go? I mean, it’s not church is it? There’s a thought – will it even be a priest? We’ll have to get Dogshit Barry to do it.
Our souvenirs should include toasters, alarm clocks, and gift vouchers for Cash Converters. Our stag do is in the Dog n Duck pub. We’re going on the bus.
Thursday, 28 April 2011
For me, several years back, Dennis James, Nasser El Sonbatty, Markus Ruhl and Orville Burke spring to mind. Orville Burke had the highest & widest lats known to man. Get ready for his nickname – The Walking Eclipse. I think I heard that he passed away (or, as Clive Barker would put it, turned a corner up ahead of us to be out of sight for a while) but a quick Google search has failed to conclude this avenue of presumption.
No matter. Past or present tense, he was, or is, a FREAKAZOID. In the bodybuilding community, this is a term of endearment. Which leads me to my next point – MD magazine.
If FLEX is a comic, MD magazine is a scientific journal. I flicked through it for years before deciding to buy it. I thought only FLEX existed. I was wrong. Once I went MD, I never went back. MD stands for muscular development. It’s a monthly bible for serious iron shifters. They don’t brush stuff under the carpet. Other magazines won’t even mention the word steroids. In MD, Dave Jumbo Palumbo gave you cycle advice.
It was there where I encountered GREGG VALENTINO, aka THE RAMBLING FREAK. Aw man, this guy. I gotta tell ya. He’s like an explosion of personality and mind. He says what he thinks and he thinks what he says. There’s no messing about with him. He’s blunt. He’s honest. He’s improperly jocular. He’s that guy at the party making everyone laugh. That guy who doesn’t take life too seriously. That guy with the biggest arms in the world.
You’ll never see a column like his. HE WRITES IN COLOURFUL BOLD CAPS AND ITALICS. You can all too easily imagine a stereotypical meathead banging his keyboard with his too-big forefinger, but like Stephen King, the best-selling author of modern times says, writing is emotional, not technical.
I cherished Gregg’s column. I incorporated it into my own writing style whenever I could, and like the old dogs say, imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. Then, when his documentary aired over here, THE MAN WHOSE ARMS EXPLODED, everyone was raving about him but I was like wow, I’ve already adored this dude for years, get with the program already...
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
You can never beat the gym, everyone knows that, the smell of sweat and the sounds of clanking, clanging metal...but unless you are fortunate to have a 24/7 gym, then your body is used to being taxed at predictable times of the day. Hit it at midnight and see what it thinks. Seated shoulder presses on your couch when you are ready for bed should shock it into growth.
I might not ever go the gym again, but I will ALWAYS, ALWAYS have the occasional home workout, and for when I do, this health store shiz will come in handy. Big heaped dollops of each, shook in a empty milk carton and downed in a plastic tumbler.
Size on. Do it like a brother, do it like a dude.
By the way, whey is going up like petrol and everything else, but I still do my work out routines and meal plans for just £20 each to friends and acquaintances. You know the drill, do curls for your biceps and eat beans for your chest. Don’t be shy, give me your cash.
Monday, 25 April 2011
I told her not to worry. I was surprised myself by how suddenly the word count had dried up but Chapter 3 would be coming along in the next couple of weeks. The important thing is that the first 2 are done and there are only 7. It’s not like Harper Collins are on my case.
YOU CAN’T RUN, she said, I DEMAND TO LIVE IN INK AS WELL AS IN HOLOGRAM.
I told her that I thought she was confusing me with the actual character in the story, Sadler, who is so entwined with her. Making fiction up doesn’t always feel so important, I explained, whether you are in it or not. It’s only a by-product of my life. A drug, granted, but not my one of choice.
PLEASE, I REALLY WANT THIS, she said. Smooth-as-oil voice.
Oh go away, I replied. You don’t even know who I am. This is me with 2 heads. I’m not getting paid. I think all writers are geeks and introverts. I’m ashamed of it and I’m ashamed of you.
SADLER ISN’T! WE BOTH CARE FOR HIM...ALL I ASK IS THAT YOU START TO THINK ABOUT ME AGAIN. I KNOW THE NEXT SCENE IS GOING TO BE SO ROMANTIC. YOU DREAMT IT EASTER SUNDAY. WE WERE IN THE BIN TOGETHER...ha
The world didn’t need any more authors blowing their own trumpets about their most meaningful, self-defining tales. I told her this. Any old bohemian on hallucinogenic drugs could find genuine creative inspiration in the advertisements between a children’s animation on Channel 5. Talent was as common as table salt. The real world consisted of logging, oil, energy, sweat...problem solving, mass production, logistical distribution, making things work. I didn’t fit in, and at 6 foot 3 inches tall, I was like a sore thumb. Still, that didn’t mean I had to like the alternative.
OTHER PEOPLE HAVE TO KNOW. YOU NEED TO PASS ME ON. LIFE IS ALL ABOUT PASSING OUR EXPERIENCES ON, NO MATTER HOW TRAGIC OR MERRY. IT’S HOW WE COPE WITHIN OURSELVES...THERE IS SOMEONE OUT THERE WHO...
If Hazel wasn’t so bad, I’d find it hard to believe that she could be good. There is some faith involved here. Faith = reason for hope. To the naked eye, she IS bad, like King Kong, but beneath...underneath...me trust
When I got back I told my doctor about Hazel appearing in the sky but she blamed the heat and told me to get out, and said if I was mad, then she was mad. Huh! I tipped her desk over and took her printer. It was a Kodak though, so dumped it in the Staples.
Sunday, 24 April 2011
Saturday, 23 April 2011
Thursday, 21 April 2011
Went to see Rob Bell at Liverpool Cathedral last night. Rob is a celebrity pastor from the states (easiest way of putting it) but he is quite unlike the usual perception of the preacher evangelist types who love the sound of their own voice on the God Channel.
He is young and full of questions. He is not afraid to answer questions too.
A man recently nabbed me in a cafe and gave me a bashing from his bible for ten minutes. It was in one ear and out the other. When it was over – mercy from above – I had no idea about the personality behind this makeshift sermon. He could have been Dan the Dagger man from Dagenham. The point is that too many people spout the bible like robots without offering any of their own opinions to substantiate it. And then there are those with testimonies that are difficult to grasp because they are 100% certain of some miracle or other which doesn't even qualify as a miracle to you.
Rob Bell knows the bible backward, but he writes his own books too. He’s got his own mind. It’s not a bad one. He was raising similar doubts to the ones I have. He suggested that if a 17 year old does not accept Jesus (or indeed never heard of him, or lived before Jesus’ time) then is he still being eternally punished 17,000 years later? He shed some light on the concept of eternity in as much as it is relative, like a weekend of bowls with nothing to drink compared to a weekend sampling Paris restaurants with Winona Ryder. FOREVER could be a mere 3 days, if you are buried alive.
Which got me thinking about TIME and SPACE, and my recent understanding that they are BEYOND our understanding.
He touched upon his future works involving QUANTUM PHYSICS. I have bookmarked that area myself and wonder if the quantum level is the next logical rung on the ladder for anyone searching for answers in general. There is only so much to measure in the top veneer of the world we have already mapped so well, and things behave so differently beneath the surface that defining the miraculous becomes that much easier.
So he’s a clever dude with faith, although at one point it was uncertain whose side he was on! But what gets me is his following. The turnout was great. They say the church is big business. This guy signed 500 books at the end in a blink. The queue stretched away like only a handful of authors can dream of. Hmm.
The cathedral is astoundingly magnificent inside; a shrine for a giant with no budget spared. Bit chilly though.
And Christians are NICE people. Everyone was smiling. Everyone looked trustworthy. If we all had been naked except for rucksacks full of liquor, soft drugs, and refrigerated Galaxy Caramels, it might have been Heaven right there and then.
THINGS LEARNED ABOUT LIFE LATELY: There is no D in refrigerated. Peas and Beans taste nice together. God hates me. And oh yeah...
You're gunna burn in Hell!
You're gunna burn in Hell!
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
This white clay is best for sculpting because it is very soft and malleable. Not the best for threading though! Trying to sew the worms through the holes with this stuff was like trying to play pool with a rope, or have sex while rotten-eyed drunk! It was like knitting fog, I tell thee! Of the thirteen coils you can see on the front, there were at least fifty on the waste pile! All buzzin’ now however!
The rear side is so messy that it would take a perfectionist to even try and tidy it up. It’s best accepting the messiness as a design in and of itself.
And as for me, well, you know, I’m just spinning along on this wheel of life like everyone else, unable to get off, pause it for breath, or speed the damn thing up. Still learning from the same old mistakes, still shouting at pigeons, and still feeling occasionally hopeful despite being vaguely dissatisfied but uncertain why. Ya heard. Over and out. Roger that. Yup. Yippee. Hooray. Laters.
Sunday, 17 April 2011
Saturday, 16 April 2011
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Sunday, 10 April 2011
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Never been a Dre fan. Haven’t seen him for years, and never in a music vid, so this for me is a comeback. It’s an awesome comeback. He is still around, doing what he loves, and looking hench in the bargain. Eminem, despite been the best lyrical genius rapper ever, has corny verses in I Need A Doctor. The tune has a catchy keyboard effect all the way through his bits though. Dre comes in on the very last chorus, which the radio doesn’t always play, and if the weight training sequence doesn’t inspire, then maybe the flashbacks of his privileged career might touch you. The floating transparent spectre woman completes the package. The special effects on her are truly impressive. I can’t believe her. I’m struck by her image. It doesn’t look like much, but believe me someone worked their ass off on a computer making her look so ghostly and graceful. She’d make the perfect Hazel in Escaping Hazel!
When I first saw Tinie’s training sequence in Wonderman I laughed aloud because I saw it coming. It wasn’t until the vid had finished when I realised he was taking the piss. So instead of me laughing at him, I understood that he was laughing at the likes of Dre. Some may perceive his treadmill form to be a direct insult on the Dolph Lundgren bit in Rocky 4. James Bond is parodied too. I have to say that as long as the quality is this high, he can feel free to rip off and mock anyone he wants. Every shot in this vid is like a movie set up! The one where he is superimposed in front of Ellie Goulding’s face with a heads-up display is simply as good as it gets! I’m tellin’! The electronic element absolutely pings as well.
VERDICT: Close, but Tempah, because I ca’nae get it outta me head.